THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY  L 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


t: 


jei*ffi«cou«,^ 


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AN   UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT 


HELEN  H.  GARDENER 

AUTHOR   OF   "is    this   YOUR    SON,    MY   LORD?    "    "  PRAY   YOU,    SIR,    WHOSE 

DAUGHTER?"'    "  PUSHED     BY    UNSEEN'    HANDS,"    "  A  THOUI.HTLESS 

YES,"  "  MEN,  WOMEN   AND  GODS,"  "    FACTS    AND  FICTIONS 

OF   LIFE,"  ETC.,   ETC. 


BOSTON 

ARENA  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

Copley  Square 

1S94 


Copyright,  1S94, 

l.y 

HELF.X  II.  GARDEXF.R. 

A II  rights  reserved. 


Arena  Press 


DEDICATION. 

To  those  who,  with  heroic  fortitude,  have 
faced  the  questions  involved  ;  to  Avhoni  was  and 
is  unknown  the  narrow  vision  whicli  results  in 
bitterness  ;  who  do  not  reckon  upon  great  socio- 
logical problems  in  the  evolution  of  the  race  as 
mere  political  ca^iital ;  who  are  able  at  once  to 
compreliend  and  to  respect  divergent  opinion, 
and  who  do  not  brand  as  moral  turpitude  all 
that  falls  outside  the  scope  of  their  own  experi- 
ence or  preference  ;  this  volume  is  dedicated,  in 
the  hope  that  it  may  make  plain  some  tilings 
that  even  the  conscientious  historian  has  failed 
to  understand  or  record,  and  upon  which  litera- 
ture is  so  far  silent. 


602915 


"  Fame  is  the  rose  on  a  dead  man's  breast." 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


CHAPTER  L 

A    SON    OF    VIRGINIA. 

Griffith  Davenport  was  a  clergyman.  I 
tell  you  this  at  the  outset,  so  that  you  may  be 
prepared  to  take  sides  with  or  against  him,  as 
is  3'our  trend  and  temperament.  Perhaps,  too, 
it  is  just  as  well  for  me  to  make  another  state- 
ment, which  shall  count  in  his  favor  or  to  his 
disadvantage,  according  to  your  own  prejudices 
or  convictions.  He  was  a  Southern  man.  He 
had  been  a  slave-owner,  and  now  he  was  neither 
the  one  nor  the  other.  But  in  connection  with, 
and  in  explanation  of  these  last-mentioned  facts, 
I  may  sa}^  that  he  had  been  a  law-breaker  in 
his  native  State,  and  was,  at  the  very  time  of 
which  I  tell  you,  evading  the  law  in  the  State 
of  his  adoption. 


.l.Y  UXOFFK'IAL  PATRIOT. 


Both  of  these  facts  were  the  <lii-eet  i-esults  of 
liaviiiL;'  1)eeii  Itoi-ii  to  shive-()\\'iiershi|),  and,  at 
the  same  time,  with  a  eouseiciire  \\hi>']i  -was  of, 
and  ill  liarmoiiy  witli.  a  (hiTcii'iit  laiitttde  and 
lieredity.  I  trust  that  ynu  \\-ill  not  infer  from 
this  hist  remark  that  I  am  (jf  the  dpinioii  that 
tlio  conscieiiee  of  the  X()rt]iern  liahitant  is  of 
more  (hdieate  iihur  tlian  is  tliat  of  his  Soutlierii 
hrotlier,  'wlio  is  of  the  same  mental  and  soeial 
grade:  for  nothing-  ronhl  he  fartlier  from  either 
tlie  facts  or  niy  intentions  limvin.  Jjiit  tliat  it  is 
of  a  different  t}'pe  and  trend  is  equally  1)eyond 
controversy.  Tlie  prii'kings  of  the  one  are  as 
regtdar  and  as  inressant,  no  douht,  as  are  those 
of  the  other:  hut  tlie  stimtdaling  eatises  ]ia\'e 
diffei'ent  roots.  I'^rhaps,  too,  it  niav  sound 
strange  to  you  tohca.r  of  one  who  can  he  spoken 
of  as  liaving  a  somewhat  sensitive  conseieuce 
and  at  tlie  same  time  as  heing  ho\\\  a  law-hreaker 
and  a  law-evader.  Ihit  certain  it  is,  that  ^\'i^]l  a 
less  primitive  concei)tion  of  lav.-s  and  of  men, 
you  will  l)e  a1)le  to  adjust,  to  a  nicelv,  tlie  ideas 
therein  conveyed,  and  also  to  realize  \uj\\'  true 
it  is  that  times,  conditions,  and  environment 
sometimes  determine  the  standard  hy  which  the 


AX  UNOFFICIAL  FATIIIOT. 


riglitfuliiess  or  wrongfulness  of  condnct  is  meas- 
ured, and  that  it  is  quite  within  tlie  possiljilities 
for  a  man  to  be  at  once  a  law-breaker  and  a 
good  man,  or  a  law-kee|)er  and  a  bad  one. 

But  I  am  not  intending  to  warp  your  judg- 
ment in  advance,  and  you  are  to  remember  that 
whatever  my  opinion  of  the  quality  of  the  Rev. 
Grifitith  Davenport's  conduct  may  be,  there  is 
another  side  to  the  matter,  and  that  I  shall  not 
take  it  greatl}-  to  heart  if  you  should  find  your- 
self on  the  other  side. 

But  if,  as  I  have  sometimes  heard  readers  say 
—  who  looked  upon  themselves  as  of  a  some- 
what superior  order — you  do  not  take  a'n  inter- 
est in  people  who  have  placed  themselves  out- 
side of  the  beaten  pathway  of  legal  regularity, 
it  wiirbe  just  as  well  for  you  to  lay  this  little 
story  aside  now,  for,  as  I  have  said,  it  is  a  story 
of  a  clergyman,  a  slave-holder,  a  law-breaker, 
and  a  law-evader,  wliich,  I  admit,  does  not  at 
the  first  blush  present  a  picture  to  the  mind  of 
a  person  in  whom  3'ou  and  I,  my  lofty  and  im- 
maculate friend,  w^ould  be  greatly  interested,  or 
with  whom  we  would  care  to  associate  for  any 
protracted  period.     Still,  I  intend   to   tell  the 


^.V  UNOFFICIAL   PATRIOT. 


story,  and  in  order  to  give  you  a  perfectly  clear 
idea  of  ]iow  uU  tlit.'  nioi'e  ini[)()rtant  events  in 
tliis  enrionsly  coniiilicated  life  eanie  al)ont,  I 
sliall  l)e  ('(iiiiiiclltMl  lo  o()  l),ic]c  to  the  hoyliood  of 
j-oung  I);iven])()rt,  so  tliat  you  may  eatcli  a 
glimpse  of  tlie  life  and  t]-aining,  wIiIcIl  were  a 
prelude  and  a.  pre])arali(in — if  von  do  not  A\isli 
to  loolc  upon  llunu  as  exaclJN'  a  justilication — of 
and  l(.)r  tlie  later  y(„'ai's  of  the  life,  vhieh  t'Xperi- 
enecMJ  sueli  strange  trials,  eoni[)liea-tions  and 
yieissitudes. 

It  Avas  in  the  year  eighteen  liundred  ami 
twenty-four  that  the  great  sea  of  ^lethodism 
lirst  began  to  beat  with  a  force  that  was  like 
that  of  a  succession  of  mighty  tidal  waves  upon 
the  previously  placid  Slate  of  Virginia.  Young 
Daven})ort  had,  at  tliat  time,  just  turned  his  lif- 
teenth  year,  l)ut  it  was  not  until  nearly  four  years 
latei',  when  tlie  tide  of  intei'est  and  excitement 
had  swept  with  a-  })ower  and  influence  impossi- 
ble to  picture  iii  these  daj's  of  religious  indiffer- 
ence and  critical  iiupiiry,  into  the  homes  and 
over  the  barriers  of  long-established  things,  that 
young  Griilitirs  home  felt  the  inyasion  to  1)6  a 
thing  which  it  behooved  gentlemen  to   consider 


AN   UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


seriously,  or  even   to  recognize  as   existing,  if 
one  may  so  express  it,  in  an  officia]  sense. 

As  I  suggested  before,  it  would  be  dillieult,  in 
these  later  and  less  emotional  days,  when  every 
school-boy  knows  of  doubts  and  questionings  in 
the  minds  of  his  elders,  to  picture  adequately 
the  serene  lack  of  all  such  doul)ts  and  question- 
ings in  Griffith  Davenport's  boyhood. 

To  be  sure  there  Avere,  and,  I  venture  to  as- 
sume, always  had  been,  disagreement  and  dis- 
putes over  forms,  methods,  and  meanings  ;  but 
these  were  not  fundamental  doubts  of  funda- 
mental beliefs,  of  Avhicli  it  would  be  entirely 
safe  to  say  that  young  Davenport  had  never  in 
his  whole  life  heard  one  little  doubt  expressed 
or  intimated,  or  that  a  question  existed  that 
could  tend  to  make  any  one  suspect  that  there 
were  or  could  be  unsettled  realms  in  the  system 
and  plan  of  salvation  as  laid  down  by  Christian- 
ity. He  supposed,  of  course,  that  Christianity 
M'as  an  incontrovertible,  fixed,  and  ffiial  religion. 
Different  sects  he  knew  there  were,  but  all  of 
these  accepted  the  basic  principle  of  Christianity. 
All  sprang  from  the  same  root.  Some  grew 
eastward,  some  westward,  and  some  made  straight 


6  ^l-\'  VXOFFK'IAL  PATRIOT. 

for  lieavcn  like  the  center  shaft  of  a  great  oak; 
Imt  eaeh  and  all  wei'e  true  linihs  of  the  same 
healthful  trunk  'whose  I'ODts  found  anchorage  in 
tlif  hcd-rock  of  eternal  truih.  lie  did  not  know 
that  there  were  other  trees  (^uile  as  vigorous 
and  eA'en  more  ex[iansive,  eaeli  oi  ^\•hieh  had 
s[irung  from  thesei.'d  of  luinviin  longing  to  solve 
tlie  unsolvalue.  Idie  ■•  heathen  ""  he  had  heard 
of,  of  course,  in  a  condenniatorv  or  pitting  way, 
but  he  did  not  know  or  think  of  their  M'orship 
as  ''religion/'  It  was  '•  fetichism,"*  id(_)latry, 
superstition.  01  Deists,  lie  had  heai'd,  if  at  all, 
l)ut  vaguely  ;  for  it  must  be  remend)ei'ed  that  in 
the  year  of  oitr  Ijlessed  Loi'd  eighteen  hundred 
and  twenty-seven  the  name  of  that  himotis  Deist, 
Thomas  Paine,  who  had  done  so  much  for  the 
liberty  and  dignity  of  the  great  new  nation,  Avas 
not  honored  as  it  is  to-day,  and,  indeed,  so  dense 
was  the  philosophical  ignorance  of  that  time, 
that  the  mention  of  the  name  of  the  authordiero 
of  the  Revolution  was  seldom  made  except  in 
execration  and  contumely.  Even  of  the  Jews, 
from  whom  his  religion  came,  Griffith  had  heard 
no  good.  They  had  slain  the  Christ,  had  they  not? 
Their  own  God  condemned  the  act,  did  he  not? 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATIIIOT. 


Young  Davenport  supposed  that  this  was  all 
true.  He  also  supposed  that  because  of  a 
blunder,  made  in  ignorance  and  passion,  in  an 
age  long  past,  a  whole  race  had  ever  since  been 
under  the  chastising  hand  of  a  just  Jehovah, 
Avho  had  decreed  that  their  humiliation  and  the 
expiation  of  the  fatal  blunder  should  be  eternal. 
That  there  were  Jews  who  were  to-day  good, 
devout  and  religious  who  still  approved  the 
attitude  of  Pilate  toward  the  Christ,  he  did  not 
know.  He  counted  this  class,  therefore,  as  in 
some  sort.  Christians  also.  ^Mistaken  in  method, 
no  doubt ;  superstitious  and  blundering  perhaps  ; 
but  still  secretly  filled  with  sorrow  and  shame 
for  the  awful  crime  of  their  race,  and  accepting 
tlie  verdict  of  God  and  the  disciplining  punish- 
ment of  time,  he  had  no  doubt  of  their  final  ac- 
ceptance of  what  he  believed  established  as 
eternal  Truth,  and  their  consequent  redemption 
and  salvation.  The  easy-going,  gentle  Episco- 
palianism  of  his  home-training,  with  its  morning 
and  evening,  perfunctory,-  family  prayers,  its 
"  table  grace  "  and  its  Sunday  service,  where  all 
the  leading  families  of  the  county  were  to  be 
seen,  and  where  the  Rector  read  with  so  much 


8  ^4^   UNOFFICIAL  PATIUOT. 

finisli  and  the  choir  sang  .so  divinel}',  the  same 
old  liyniiis.  weelv  after  Aveek,  had  so  far  been  as 
mneh  a  part  of  his  life, — and  wwe  accepted  as 
mechanically, — as  Avere  the  daily  meals,  the  un- 
paid negro  lalior,  and  the  fact  that  liis  father, 
the  old  '•'Squire.""  sat  in  the  hcst  pcA\',  because 
he  ha<l  Ijuilt  ami  endowed  the  linest  church  in 
the  State. 

All  these  things  had  come  to  ririnitii  as  quite 
a  matter  of  course  ;  as  some  C(|ually  inqxirtant 
things  liavc  come  to  yon  and  to  nie — and  not  at 
all  as  matters  of  surprise  or  as  questions  for 
argument. 

Tliat  liis  fatlier,  the  old  major,  swore  I'oundly, 
from  tinu'  to  time,  at  the  slaA'es,  did  not  appeal 
to  the  boy's  mind  as  cillier  strange  or  re})rehen- 
sdjle  ;  so  ti'ue  is  it  that  those  things  "whicli  come 
to  us  gradually,  and  iii  the  regular  order  of 
events,  do  ]iot  arouse  Avithin  us  doubts  and 
questionings  as  do  sudden  or  startling  addi- 
tions to  our  development  or  intellectual  equip- 
ment, when  thrust  unexpectedly  in  upon  our 
ordinary  surroundings.  Sueli  moral  or  social 
questions  as  were  involved  in  the  ownership  of 
slaves  had,  up  to  that   time,  produced   no   more 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  9 


mental  qualms  in  the  boy  than  have  the  same 
questions  as  to  ownersliip  of  lands  or  of  horses 
upon  you  or  me  at  the  pi'esent  time. 

Jerry  had  been  Griffith's  own  particular 
"  boy  "  ever  since  he  could  rememljer,  and,  al- 
though Jerry  was  the  older  of  the  two,  it  would 
be  wholly  unfair  to  all  parties  concerned  not  to 
state  clearly  and  fully  that  the  righteousness 
and  inevitability  of  the  relationship  of  OAvned 
and  owner,  liad  no  more  sinister  meaning  for 
Jerry  than  it  had  for  his  young  "Mos'Grif." 
So  prone  are  we  all  to  accept  as  a  linality  that 
to  wdiich  custom  has  inured  us. 

Was  Jerry  an  Episcopalian  ?  Most  assuredly ! 
Were  not  all  of  the  Davenports  meml)ers  of  the 
established  order  in  all  things  ?  And  was  not 
Jerry  a  Davenport  ?  Not  one  negro  on  the 
Avhole  plantation  had  ever  for  one  little  moment 
thought  of  himself  as  other  than  an  Episcopa- 
lian,— in  so  far  as  the  Almighty  would  permit 
one  whose  skin  was  black  to  be  of  the  elect. 
They  one  and  all  felt  a  real  and  eager  pride  in 
the  social  and  religious  status  of  the  Davenports, 
and  had  never  even  harbored  a  doubt  that  they 
would  be  permitted  to  polish  the  harps  and  hold 


10  .1-V  UXOFFK'IAL  PAmiOT. 

tile  horses  of  llmt  fortimali'  family  A\lieii  all 
should  again  he  I'euiiited  in  that  hettei'  •world, 
AvheJ'e  all  iiii^'ht  hr  free  hut  not  e(jual — for  ''  as 
one  star  diffeiTd  from  another,""  cle.  Xo  dif- 
ferent dreams  haiA  e^■er,  so  far,  visited  master  or 
shive. 

'•  r  eonld  never  he  happv  in  heaven  \vithont 
Jeri'v."  had  settled  tiie  (jiiestion  in  (Jrilhth's 
mind,  lor  of  e(Miist;  his  owii  dt-stinalion  was 
snre.  And  llr-  ni'u;-ro  f;dt  eijually  secni'e  Avhen 
he  thou^'ht,  '' ]\Ios'  Grif  aiiTt  Lwine  ter  go 
]lo\\:hah  \vidont  me.  Xoljody  else  ain't  gwine 
ter  take  eahr  oh  liim.  Xohody  else  know 
how." 

IJnt  the  unsettling  times  which  hi'ought  ]\Ieth- 
odism,  in  a  great  and  overwhelming  wave,  into 
the  ranks  of  estahlishcd  things,  hrought  also 
mutterings  and  perplexities  and  awakeiiings  of 
another  sort.  Aroused  energies,  stimulated  con- 
scienees,  exeited  mentalities  are  ever  likely  to 
find  varying  otttlets.  Progressive  movements 
seldom  travel  singly,  and  so  it  came  ahout  that, 
mingled  with  the  new  religious  unrest,  there 
were  other  and,  perhaps  yoti  will  say,  graver 
questions  so  inextrieahly  joined,  in  some  minds 


AJSr  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  11 

that  tlie  one   appeared  to  l)e  tlie  root  and  eause 
of  the  other. 

'^  Is  shivery  right  ?  If  it  is  right  for  the  hiity, 
at  least,  is  it  not  wrong  for  one  who  is  an  apos- 
tle of  the  Son  of  God,  who  had  not  where  to  lay 
His  head  ?  Should  Ijlaek  men  l)e  free  men  ?  " 
and  all  the  disturbing  horde  of  questions  which 
followed  in  the  train  of  the  new  religion,  hegan 
to  float,  at  first  in  intangible  ways,  in  tlie  air.  A 
little  later  they  took  form  in  scowl  or  hasty 
word,  and  at  last  crept  into  sermons,  social  dis- 
cussions and  legislative  deliberations,  as  by  de- 
grees the  echo  of  these  latter  floated  down  from 
Washington  or  filtered  through  other  sources, 
from  the  Border  States,  where  the  irrepressible 
conflict  had  arisen  in  a  new  form  to  vex  the 
souls  and  arouse  tlie  passions  of  men.  The 
pressing  cjuestion  of  free  soil  or  slave  extension 
had  already  begun  to  urge  itself  upon  the  public 
mind  and  to  harass  the  Border  States,  finding 
utterance  for  or  against  that  Congressional  meas- 
ure known  as  the  jMissouri  Compromise  Bill. 
Young  Griffith  Davenport  had  spent  his  seven- 
teen years  in  an  atmosphere  of  scholarly  investi- 
gation and  calm,  where  little  of  even  the  echoes 


12  .1-V  rXOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 

of  these  distuil)iiig'  intlueiiees  ]i;k1  eoiiie.  His 
lionie  was  a  eomfortable  (3iie — iiKleed.  the  Ihiest 
ill  all  that  part  of  the  '•valley":  the  lihraiy 
(|iiite  unusual  in  extent  and  ( luality  for  the  tiir.e 
and  plaee.  Grif's  tutor  ^^"as  a  l'nivel•sit^'  man. 
Ills  pleasures  those  of  a  cMjiintiy  'scjuire  :  lor  in 
^"iry■inia,  as  in  England,  the  offiee  of  ••  esijuire," 
or  justiee  of  the  peaee.  was  wttut  to  pass  fi'oin 
father  to  eldest  son,  in  families  of  eonsidera- 
tion  :  and,  indeed,  at  tliat  early  age  TJrifs  father 
had,  hy  dt'grees,  turned  the  duties  of  the  olhee 
over  to  the  hoy,  until  tiow  no  one  expeeted  to 
constilt  the  "•old  "s(piire  ""  upon  anv  ordinarv 
to[)ie.  The  ••young  *s(|U!re  "'  settled  it,  ^^■hether 
it  A\'ere  a  dispute  over  dog-slain  sheep  or  a  mis- 
understanding ahout  the  road  tax. 

I'[)on -this  plaeid,  '•  estaldishi'd  ""  finalitv  of 
existeiiee  it  Avas,  tlieii,  A\hieh  descended  a 
cyclone.  Formalism  in  religion  had  ittn  its 
course.  The  pr()test  was  swift,  impassioned, 
sincere.  Vigorou.s,  earnest,  htit  often  unlearned 
men  s[)rang"  into  prominence  at  a  single  bottnd. 
Argttments  arose.  ]Men  l)egau  to  ask  if  the  Al- 
mightv  was  pleased  ■\^'ith  hu-ms  in  whieli  the  sold 
was  dead — if  mere  Avords,  and  not  sincere  emo- 


.4.Y  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  \?> 


tioii  of  the  lieart,  gTatified  God.  Was  it  wor- 
ship to  ,sini[)ly  read  or  repeat  the  words  of 
aiiothe]' ?  ^lust  not  one's  own  soul,  inind  and 
heart  furni,>h  the  key,  as  well  as  the  medium,  to 
aid  in  real  devotion  ?  Had  the  letter  killed  the 
spirit  ? 

Young  Grifiith  heard.  Tlie  ideas  fascinated 
him.  Oaths  from  liis  father's  lips  struck  liini 
with  a  new  meaning  and  a  dilTerent  force. 
Whereas  tliey  liad  l)een  mere  vocal  emphasis, 
now  tliey  were  fearful  maledictions — and  from 
a  leadiiio'  Christian,  flic  leading  Christian  of  the 
count}' ! 

Grifiith  pondered,  trembled,  listened  again  to 
tlie  new  religious  teachers — to  whose  meetings 
he  had,  at  first,  gone  in  a  spirit  of  mild  fun,  not 
in  the  least  reprohated  hy  liis  father — and  had, 
at  last,  treniLlingly,  passionately  believed. 


U  ^4.V  Uy OFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  I  paint  him  in  cliarncter.'"  —  Shakespeare. 

That  a  Davenport  sliouLl  surionsly  contem- 
plate leaving'  tlie  ''  ]\Iot]ier  Clmivli,*'  as  the  dev- 
otees of  tlie  Anglican  cstablislnnent  Avere  given 
to  calling  tlicir  l)ranc]i  of  the  real  Roman 
mother,  Avas  a  })ioposition  too  absurd  to  Le  con- 
sidered ;  and  the  old  Major  met  his  son's  first 
suggestions,  wherein  this  tendency  was  indi- 
cated, as  tlie  mere  va}i(tiings  of  a  restless,  un- 
formed hoy.  lie  lauglicd  loudly,  guyed  Ids  son 
openly,  and  inquired  jocosely  which  one  of  the 
pretty  INIetliodist  girls  liad  struck  his  fancy. 

''If  it  turns  out  to  l)e  serious,  Grif,  and  you 
marry  her,  she  Avill,  as  a  matter  (^f  course,  trans- 
fer lier  membership  to  the  ^Mother  Church.  A 
true  wife  always  follows  her  husband  in  all 
things.  '  Th}-  people  shall  be  my  people,  and 
tliy  God  my  God,'  you  know,  Grif.  Good  old 
saying.     Bible  truth,  my  son.     But  who  is  the 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  15 

happy  girl,  you  young  scamp  ?  Tliere  is  rather 
a  paucity  of  thoroughbreds  among  the  ]\Ietho- 
dists,  as  they  call  this  new  craze.  Don't  make 
that  kind  of  a  mistake,  my  boy,  whatever  else 
you  do.     Better  keej)  inside  the  paddock." 

The  old  Major  chuckled,  and,  turning  on  his 
heel,  left  his  son  covered  with  confusion,  and 
with  a  sense  of  imj^otent  zeal  and  conviction  to 
which  he  could  not  or  dared  not  give  voice. 

That  this  question  of  a  truer,,  warmer,  more 
personally  stirring  religious  life  did  not  touch  a 
single  responsive  chord  in  the  Major's  nature, 
filled  the  son,  anew,  with  misgivings.  At  first, 
these  questionings  led  him  to  doubt  himself, 
and  to  wonder  if  it  could,  after  all,  be  possible 
that  his  own  youth,  inexperience  and  provincial- 
ism might  really  not  lie  at  the  root  of  his  new 
unrest.  He  went  to  the  Methodist  meetings 
with  a  fresh  determination  to  be  serenely  criti- 
cal, and  not  to  yield  to  the  onrush  of  emotion 
which  had  grown  so  strong  within  him  as  he 
had  listened,  in  the  past,  to  the  passionate  and 
often  ruggedly  eloquent  appeals  of  the  pioneers 
of  the  new  faith — or,  perhaps,  it  were  better  to 
say,  to  .the  new  expression  of  the  old  faith. 


u; 


J.Y   JWOFFK'IAL   PATRIOT. 


lie  '.;-ave  ii[)  liis  I'xti'a  Latin  lessons,  Aviiicli 
lad  l.ci'ii  Lis  (Icliylit  and  llic  pi'ide  of  liis  tutor 
■•■^      ''    ''■■  ■    *' "^•;.    tliat    lie    nii^'lit    lla^•e   these 


and    of    liis    faiull\- 
lioui's   for   till'   studv  of  llie    Bilile  and   tlie   U-\v 
I'ied   liy  tlio    eol[)orteurs   or    tlie 


otlier  l)ooks  ran 
cii'cnit  riders,  ^^ 
tlie  State 


]i(_)    Averc  beginning   to  ovei'run 


me  r^iaie. 

Tlie  old  ^[:ijor  disapproved,  hut  it  was  not  Lis 
wav  to  di^<-nss  niattei's  with  Lis  family  :  and  it 
niav  l)e  doiiLted,  indeed,  if  tlie  }>Iajor  grasped 
tlie  sig-nilieaneo  and  foree  of  iLe  tide  wLicL   liad 


ine  sig-niUeaneo  and  loree  oi  ine  tn(e  wincn  Jiad 
ovei'taken  Ins  son,  as  it  Ijad  rnslied  wilL  tlie 
power  of  a  llood  o-\'er  Lis  l)eloved  ^'i]■ginia  and 
left  in  its  \\-ake  a  trenien<lous  unrest,  and  earried 
Lefore  it  many  of  tlie  most  sineere  and  foreeful 
cliaraeters  and  questions.  IJeyi.md  a  few  twit- 
tings  and  an  oeeasional  growl,  tlierefore,  tlie  old 
Major  Lad  ignorecl  Lis  son's  gradual  witlidrawal 
from  tlie  aneieiit  forms  and  fuiietions  and  tlie 
faet  tliat  almost  every  Sunday  morning,  of  late, 
Lad  found  tlie  Loy  al)sent  from  llie  family  pe\A 
and  pi'eseiit  two  miles  up  tlie  valley  at  tlie  little 
log  meetiugdunise  of  tlie  ?iIetliodists.  He  was 
unprepared,  tlierefore,  to  faee  tlie  fpiestion  seri- 
ously,  when   finally  told  by  tlie  boy's  niotber 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  17 

that  Gril:  had  decided  tliat  on  his  nineteenth 
Lirthdaj'  he  "wouhl  be  baptized,  and  that  he 
intended  to  enter  tlie  ministry  as  a  circuit  rider. 

The  joke  struck  the  ^lajor  as  good  above  the 
averao'e.  He  Luici'hed  Iouq-  and  loud.  He 
chuckled  within  himself  all  day.  When  even- 
ing came  and  Griffith  api[)eared  at  the  table  the 
jNIajor  was  too  full  of  mirth  and  derisioii  to  con- 
tent himself  with  his  usual  banter. 

"  Your  mothah  inforhms  me,'*  he  began  with 
the  ironical  touch  in  his  tone  held  well  under 
the  sparkle  of  humor.  "  Your  mothah  inforhms 
me  that  to-morrow  is  your  nineteenth  birthday, 
you  long-legged  young  gosling,  and  that  you 
contemplate  celebrating  it  by  transmuting  your- 
self into  a  Methodist  ass  wdth  leather  lungs  and 
the  manners,  sir, — and  the  habits,  sir,  of — of — of 
a  damned  Yankee  ! "' 

As  the  Major  had  halted  for  Avords  and  the 
picture  of  his  son  as  a  circuit  rider  arose  before 
him  as  a  leality  and  not  as  a  joke,  his  ire  had 
gotten  the  better  of  his  humor.  The  picture  he 
had  conjured  up  in  his  own  mind  of  this  son  of 
his  in  the  new  social  relations  sure  to  result  from 
the  contemplated  change  of  faith  swamped  the 


18  AX  UXOFFiriAL  PATRIOT. 


old  Major's  sense  of  the  absurdity  of  the 
situation  in  a  snddon  fee'ling  of  indignation  and 
cliagrin,  and  thu  s(_»und  of  liis  own  unusual 
words  did  the  rest. 

Griililli  looked  up  at  his  father  in  hlardc  sur- 
prise. Ilis  mothei'  said,  gently,  "•  Majah  I 
Majali  I  "  r>ut  the  old  "s(piirL'"s  sudden  plunge 
into  anger  had  liini  in  its  grip.  lie  grew  more 
and  more  excited  as  his  own  ^vords  stirred 
him. 

''  Yes,  sir,  like  a  dannied  northern  taekey  that 
comes  down  here  amongst  respectahle  peo^jle  to 
talk  to  niggers,  and  preach,  as  they  call  their 
ranting,  to  the  white  trash  that  ne\-er  owned  a 
nio'o'er  in  their  whole  worthless  lives,  and  tell 
'em  about  the  *  unrighteousness  "  of  slavery  I 
Why  don't  they  read  their  lUbles  if  they  know 
enough  to  read?  It  teaches  slavery  plain 
enough — '  Servants  obey  your  masters  in  all 
tilings,'  and  '  If  a  man  sell  liis  servant,"  and 
'  His  servant  is  his  money."  and  a  good  man}' 
more  !  Why  don't  thev  read  their  Bibles,  1 
say,  and  shout  if  they  Avant  to,  and  attend  to 
their  own  business  ?  Xobod}-  wants  their  long 
noses   down  here    amongst  reputable    people, 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  19 

sowing  seeds  of  riot  and  rebellion  among  the 
niggers  I '"  The  jNIajor  had  forgotten  his  orig- 
inal point  but  it  came  back  to  him  as  Grif 
began  to  speak. 

"  But,  sir " 

"  But,  sir  I  "  he  said,  rising  from  his  chair  in 
his  excitement,  "  don't  '  but,  sir,'  me  !  I'm  dis- 
gusted and  ashamed,  sir  !  Ashamed  from  the 
bottom  of  my  hawt,  that  a  son  of  mine — a  Daven- 
port— could  for  one  moment  contemplate  this 
infernal  piece  of  folly  I  .V  circuit  rider,  indeed  ! 
A  damned  disturber  of  niggers  !  A  man  with 
no  traditions !  Shouting  and  having  fits  and 
leading  weak-minded  women  and  girls,  and 
w^eaker-minded  boys  and  niggers  into  unpardon- 
able, disgraceful  antics  and  calling  it  religion  ! 
Actually  having  the  effrontery  to  call  it  religion  ! 
It's  nothing  but  infernal  rascality  in  half  the 
cases  and  pitiable  insanity  in  the  other  half,  and 
if  I'd  been  doing  ni}^  duty  as  a  'squire  I'd  have 
taken  the  whole  pestiferous  lot  up  and  put  one 
set  in  jail  and  the  other  set  in  an  asylum,  long 
ago  !  Look  at  'em  !  Ducking  '  converts,'  as  they 
call  their  dupes,  in  the  creek  !  Perfectly  dis- 
graceful, sir !     I  forbid  you  to  go  about  their 


20 


.LY   rXOFFK  'I. !  L  I\ i  THIOT. 


luecliiigs  aL;-aiii,  sir!     ^'cs,  sii',  onix'  and  for   all, 

1  f..i].i.i  it  :■" 

'i'lic  ?.Iai')r  1)!<)ii;_;-lii  liis  fist  down  on  the  ta])k' 
witli  a  lian^'  tliat  sd  tlu'  lini'  rliina  j-altling  and 
aildcil  {\\r  last  straw  o\'  astonislnncnt  and  dis- 
coiiiroi-i  to  till'  nnii>ual  I'aniih' jai' ;  for  few  in- 
deed liail  e\rr  Ix'-'ii  the  oci-asions  npon  whicli 
even  a.  niihl  (h'^'ree  of  paternal  antho;-ity  had  not 
l)een  so  (jniehlv  followed  hy  ready  and  willing- 
eoniplianee  that  an  onthi'eak  of  anything  like 
real  temper  or  anthoritativo  er)nunand — other 
than  at  or  toward  the  slaves — had  Ijeen  hardly 
within  ( lrif"s  ni''n!ory. 

The  hoy  arose,  tienihling  and  pale,  and  leav- 
ing his  iintonehed  [)late  of  elioiee  food  hefoi'C  him 
tnrned  tt»  leave  the  room, 

'••Come  hade  hci'e,  sir!  "  eonnnanded  the  old 
Major.  "  Take  }'onr  seat,  sir,  and  eat  your 
sup}>er,  sir,  and "" 

Mrs.  Daver.[»ort  hurst  into  tears.  The  l)oy 
hesitated,  parted  his  lips  as  if  to  speak,  looked 
at  his  mother,  and  with  a  sudden  movemeiit  of 
his  hand  toward  a  little  l)ook  ^^•hieh  he  always 
ean-ied  these  later  days  in  l)is  l)reast-[)Oeket,  he 
slepj)ed  to  his  mother's  side,     There  was  a  great 


AX  ry OFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  21 

lump  in  liis  tliroiit.  He  ■\^■a.s  struggling  for 
master}'  of  himself  but  liis  voice  broke  into  a 
sob  as  lie  said  : 

^' '  lie  that  lovctli  father  or  mother  more  than 
]\Ie  is  not  worthy  of  ^le.  And  he  that  taketh 
not  his  cross  and  followeth  after  ]Me,  is  not 
worth}'  of  ]\Ie.' "'  He  kissed  his  mother's  fore- 
head and  [)assed  swiftly  out  of  the  room.  His 
horse  stood  at  the  frout  gate  waiting  the  usual 
evening  canter.  Griiiith  threw  his  long  leg- 
over  the  saddle,  and  said  to  Jerry,  who  stood 
liolding  the  bridle  of  liis  own  horse,  ready  to 
follow  as  was  liis  custom  :  "  I  don't  want  you 
to-night,  Jerry.  Stay  at  home.  Good-night," 
and  rode  away  into  the  twilight. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  say  just  what  Grif- 
fitlTs  plan  was.  Indeed,  it  had  all  been  so 
sudden  and  so  out  of  the  ordinary  trend  of  his 
life,  that  there  was  a  numb  whirl  of  excitement, 
of  })ain  and  of  Ijlind  impulse  too  fresh  within 
him  to  permit  of  anything  like  consecutive 
thought.  But,  with  Grif,  as  Avitli  most  of  us 
when  the  crises  of  our  lives  come,  fate  or  chance 
or  conditions  have  taken  the  reins  to  drive  us. 
We  are  fond  of  saying — and  while  we  are  young 


22  AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATEIOT. 


v,'e  bi'lieve — lliat  we  decided  tlnis  or  tliiis;  that 
we  converted  that  condilioii  or  tliis  disaster 
into  an  oppoi'tnnity  and  foi-med  onr  lives  upon 
such  and  su(di  a  niodeh  ^VU  of  ^\■hich  is — 
as  a  rule — mere  fond  self-gratnlation.  The 
fact  is,  althonL;h  it  may  -wonnd  our  pride  to 
acknowlcflge  it,  that  we  followed  the  line  of 
least  I'csistance  (all  things  l)eing  considered,  our 
own  natures  included)  and  events  did  the  rest. 
And  so  when  (irif  turned  an  angle  in  tlie  I'oad, 
two  miles  from  home,  and  came  suddenl}-  u})on 
the  circuit  rider,  who  was  to  l)a[)tize  the  ncAV  con- 
verts on  the  following  (hiy,  and  wlien  Brother 
Prout  took  it  for  granted  that  Grif  was  on 
his  Avay  to  the  place  of  gathering  in  order  to  be 
present  at  the  })reliminary  meeting,  it  seemed  to 
Grif  that  he  had  originally  started  from  home 
with  that  ohject  in  view.  His  thoughts  began 
to  center  around  that  idea.  The  pain  and 
shock  of  the  home-quarrel,  A\hicli  lie  had  simply 
started  out  to  ride  off,  to  think  over,  to  prepare 
to  meet  on  the  morrow,  gradually  faded  into  a 
dull  hurt,  M'hich  made  the  phrases  and  quota- 
tions and  exhortations  of  Brother  Prout  soiuid 
like  friendly  and  personal  utterances  of  soothing 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATBIOT.  23 

and  of  paternal  advice,  and  so  the  two  miles 
stretched  into  ten  and  the  camp-gronnd  was 
reached,  and  for  GritHth,  the  die  was  cast. 


1^4  AX  UXOFFICIAL  PATBIOT. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    lUONY    OF    FATE. 

It  lias  l)L'cn  wAl  said  tlial  tlif  heresies  of  one 
generation  aie  the  orthodox  standards  cif  the 
next  ;  and  it  is  e({nally  true  tiiat  the  great  con- 
vidsive  A\-aves  of  emotion,  l)e]ief.  patriotic  aspi- 
ration or  progressive  emtda.tion  of  the  leadeis  of 
thonglit  of  one  age,  for  whieli  tliey  are  mar- 
tyred l)y  tlie  conventionally  stnpid  majority, 
become  the  watchwords  and  nncontrovertihle 
l)asis  of  Ixdief  for  the  succeeding  generation  of 
the  respectalily  unthinking,  and  furidsh  afresh, 
alas !  the  means,  the  motives  and  the  power  for 
the  crueitixion  of  the  })ropliets  and  thinkers  of 
the  new  cycle.  ^Mediocrity  is  forever  sure  that 
nothing  better  or  loftier  is  in  store.  Genius 
sees  eternal  progi'ess  in  perpetual  change. 

]\Iuch  of  the  doings  and  many  of  the  sayings 
of  the  new  leligious  sect  seemed  to  the  people 
about  them  full  of  heresy,  dangerous  in  tend- 


AJSr  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  'lb 

ency,  and,  indeed,  Ijlasplienious  in  its  enthusi- 
asms and  its  belief  in  and  effort  for  an  intimate 
personal  relationship  with  a  prayer-ans^yering 
and  a  praise-loving  God.  To  Grif,  Brother 
Prout's  fervor  and  enthusiasm  of  expression,  his 
prayers  which  seemed  the  friendly  communica- 
tions of  one  who  in  deed  and  in  truth  walked 
with  his  God,  instead  of  the  old,  pei'functory, 
formal  reading  of  set  phrases  arranged  for  special 
days,  which  had  to  he  hunted  up  in  a  Ijook  and 
responded  to  l)y  all  iu  exactly  the  same  words, 
and  with  the  same  utter  want  of  personal  feel- 
ing, to  Grif,  these  fervid,  passionate,  sincere  and 
simple  appeals  of  the  kind  old  enthusiast  seemed 
like  the  very  acme  and  climax  of  a  faith  which 
might,  indeed,  move  mountains. 

"  Amen !  amen  !  " 

"  Praise  the  Lord,  O  my  soul !  " 

"Thanks  i.e  to  Almighty  God!"  echoed 
along  the  banks  of  the  river,  the  loved  Opc|uan, 
that  had  been  to  Grif  a  friend  and  companion 
from  his  earliest  boyhood.  He  had  never  stood 
by  its  banks  without  an  onrush  of  feeling  that 
had  tended  to  burst  into  a  song  of  joy  !  From 
his  grandfather's  front  porch  and  from  the  win- 


20  .l-V   rXOFFICIAL   T'ATJIIOT. 


(lows  of  liis  own  room  at  lioiiie  lie  could  see  it 
winding'  tlii'oii^li  the  rocky  liills  and  sti'U^-^'liiir;' 
for  its  ri!_;lit  to  leacli  the  sea.  He  had  skipped 
pel)l)les  on  it  and  waded  across  it  at  low  tide, 
and  had  stood  in  a.we  at  its  an^'iy  and  impetuous 
.swirl  \\hen  the  spring  ]'ains  had  swolh-n  it  to  o- 
t(trrent  of  irresistihle  foi'ce.  Ir  seemed  to  Grif 
now  that  its  waters  smiliMl  at  him,  an-1  his  eves 
lille(l  ^\■ilh  teai's  tli.d.  \^'ei-e  of  hap[)iness  not  un- 
nnxed  -with  a  tender  pain  and  regret — regret  for 
he  k]iew  not  A\'hat. 

'•'•  Joy  to  the  Avorld.  the  I^oi'd  has  come  !  "' 
rang  out  with  a  volume  and  an  impassioned 
sincerity  Avhich  giu'e  no  room  hir  the  eiitical 
car  of  the  musician  nor  for  tlie  carping  l)rain  of 
the  skeptic,  had  either  heen  there  to  heai-.  '•  Let 
earth  I'eceive  her  King  I "'  The  hills  in  the  dis- 
tance took  up  the  melody,  and  it  seemed  to  the 
overwrought  ner\"es  of  the  l)oy  that  nothing  so 
beaiUifnl  in  all  tlie  world  h.ad  ever  heen  seen  or 
lieanl  before.  '"  Let  every  heart  pre})arc  Him 
room,  and  lieaven  and  nature  sing  I "'  Ah,  was 
not  lieaven  and  nature,  indeed,  singing  the  most 
glorious  song  the  earth  had  ever  hr-ard  o]'  seen 
when  she  made  this  valley?     When  she  built 


^.V  C/J^^ OFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


these  mountains,  and  threaded  that  little  river 
over  the  stones  ?  Grifiith  was  lost  in  an  intoxi- 
cation of  soul  and  sense.  He  was  looking  across 
the  valley  to  the  old  home.  His  hands  were 
clenched  until  the  nails  were  marking  the  palms, 
and  his  voice  rang  out  so  clear  and  true  that  the 
neighborhood  boys  touched  each  other  and  mo- 
tioned toward  the  young  fellow  witli  almost  a 
sense  of  envy.  Neither  cultured  musician  nor 
cynic  was  there,  and  the  softness  of  the  air  lent 
charm  to  the  simple  exercises  ^^'hich  some  of  the 
j-ouths  had  come  in  a  spirit  of  fun  to  deride.  It 
was  restful  to  the  weary,  stimulating  to  tlie 
sluggish  and  soothing  to  the  unhapp}-.  They 
were  carried  out  of  their  narrow  and  monoto- 
nous lives.  If  Griffith's  heart  had  been  sore  and 
in  a  condition  to  be  soothed  by  the  words  and 
prayers  of  Father  Prout,  how  much  more  were 
his  nerves  and  emotions  in  that  unstrung  and 
vaguely  wounded  and  impressionable  state 
where  physical  change  and  reaction  is  easily- 
mistaken  for  religious  fervor  or  exaltation,  how 
much  more  was  he  in  that  state  where  melody 
joined  to  nature's  most  profligate  mood  of  beauty 
in  scene  leads  captive  the  soul ! 


28  AX  IW OFFICIAL   P All: lor. 

During-  tlie  nu'cting  wlili-h  liad  f(ill(>\vt_'(l  liis 
arrival  at  tlic  eaiii})-L;'r()n!i(l  (rril'  liad  passed 
tlirdUg'li  lliat  pliase  of  |ili\>ical  I'lMrlion  uliicli 
meant  ti)  liim  a  '•  leading  (d  the  spirit  "'  and.  as 
lie  stood  now  on  llie  liaidcs  of  Lis  heloveil  river 
]M)urin'_;'  out  Ids  ^()ung■  lieart  in  liie  li\iiui  (if  liis 
1)ovis]i  faiiev.  lu-  no  longer  doul)le(l  tlial  lie"  liad, 
indeetl.  l»een  "  ealled  ""  to  lie  a  eireuil  rider  and 
to  cast  his  lot  with  the  new  <irder  of  religious 
entliusiasts.  lie  looked  now  upon  his  previous 
doid.its  as  teni})iations  of  the  devil  and  put.  oiie'O 
and  for  all.  their  whisperings  lieliind  him  and 
accepted  the  new  lot  as  heaven  and  (iod-sent 
and  intendt'd. 

Father  Prout  gave  to  all  of  his  converts  a 
ehoiee  in  the  form  of  their  1)aptism.  Leaning, 
himself,  toward  immersion,  he  still  lield  that 
spiinkling'  was  sui'iicient  and  with  a  ling'ering 
memory  of  his  father's  liing  at  "  ducking-  con- 
verts in  the  creek.""  Chitlith  had  determined  to 
be  sprinkled  :  Ijul,  as  the  last  echoes  of  the  old 
hymn  died  away,  lie  stepped  to  the  l)ank  and 
indicated  that  he  would  be  immersed.  As  he 
arose  from  the  water  his  face  was  radiant, 
and  when  lie  had  removed  liis  immersion  voho. 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  29 

his  eyes  filled  Avith  happy  tears  as  his  father 
rode  up  to  the  edge  of  the  grounds  and  held 
out  his  arms  to  the  boy. 

"  My  son,"  he  said  tremulously,  "  ni}^  son, 
fohrgive  me.  I  have  been  unhappy  all  night.  I 
did  not  realize  that  I  was  swearing  at  ^i/ou  until 
your  niothah  told  me.  Come  home,  my  bo}', 
and  your  new  friends  Avill  be  weleome  at  Rock 
Hall.  God  bless  you,  my  son,  come  liome, 
yourmothah  is  unhappy." 

Mr.  Lengthy  Patterson,  a  long-legged,  ca- 
daverous mountaineer  who  had  Avended  his 
way  from  the  distant  fastnesses  of  the  high 
perched  log  cabin  which  he  called  home  and 
wherein  he  ate  and  slept  when  he  was  not 
engaged  in  those  same  occupations  out  under 
the  stars  where  night — during  liis  hunting 
and  fishing  expeditions — chanced  to  overtake 
him,  had  been  watching  Grif  all  day.  The 
boy's  radiant  face  the  past  hour  had  fasci- 
nated him.  In  his  absorption  he  had  stepped 
so  close  to  the  old  jNIajor  as  he  and  Grif 
stood  making  ready  for  the  homeward  ride,  that 
Mr.  Davenport  made  an  instinctive  gesture  of 
impatient  disapproval  which  called  the  naturally 


30  AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATIHOT. 


(It^ferential  woodsman  Lack  to  liis  normal  men- 
ial state. 

''  It  is  Lengtliy  Patterson,  fatlier,*"  said  Grif- 
iitli,  Avitli  Lis  evei'-ivady  impulse  to  cover  the 
confusion  of  the  luihukv  or  ignorant  who  were 
intrusive  without  a  kimw  k-dye  of  the  fact  until 
a  reconaiition  of  disapproval  made  .self-con- 
sciousness [)a.lnfnl. 

]\Ir.  Davenport  moved  as  if  t(-)  make  amends 
for  his  previous  maimer  1)y  an  offer  to  shake 
hands  with  tlie  mountaineer — an  unheard-of 
proceeding  on  tlie  "Sipiire's  part. 

''Oh,  it's  Lengthy  Patterst)n,  is  it?  I  beg 
your  pahrdon.  Air.  a — Lengthy.  I  did  not  rec- 
ognize you  at "' 

The  long  legs  liad  moved  slowly  away. 
Tie  turned  around,  tilted  liis  half  rindess  hat 
further  on  to  tlie  back  of  his  head,  in  lieu  of 
lifting  it,  and  in  a  voice  as  evenly  graded  to 
one  single  note  as  is  that  of  a  Hying  loon,  re- 
marked, as  he  kept  on  his  way: 

"Xo  excuse.  Say  nothin\  Few  words  com- 
prehends the  whole." 

''What  did  that  fell(-)W  say,  Grif  ?  "'  asked 
his  father,  as  they  mounted. 


^.Y  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  31 

Griffith  laughed  rather  hysterically.  The 
reaction  was  coming'. 

"  It's  just  a  phrase  he  has,  father.  They  say 
he  never  was  known  to  say  anything  else  ;  but 
I  expect  that  is  a  joke.  He's  an  honest  fellow 
and  a  splendid  woodsman.  lie  knows  every 
crack  in  the  mountains,  and  is  a  perfect  terror 
to  rattlesnakes.  Don't  you  rememljer  ?  He  is 
the  fellow  wdio  saved  the  old  Randolph  house 
that  time  it  took  fire,  and  got  the  children  out. 
They  say  v/lien  Mrs.  Randolph  went  away  up 
to  his  cabin  to  thard^:  liim,  he  remarked  that  '  a 
few  words  comprehended  the  Avhole,'  and  fled 
the  mountain  until  he  was  sure  she  had  gone. 
He  appears  to  be  afraid  of  the  English  lan- 
guage and  of  nothing  else  on  earth." 

There  was  a  long  silence.  The  old  Major 
was  turned  half  out  of  his  saddle,  as  was  a 
habit  of  his,  to  rest  himself.  The  horses  were 
taking  their  own  gait.  Presently  they  turned 
a  curve  in  the  road  and  Grif  suddenly  threw 
his  arm  across  his  father's  shoulder  and  leaned 
far  over  toward  him.  "  Kiss  me,  father,"  he 
said,  and  before  the  moisture  had  dried  out  of 
their  eyes  and  the  great  lump  left  their  throats, 


32  AX  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


l)()tli  lau^'lifd  a  little  in  that  slia.me-faccd  fash- 
ion iiii'ii  liaA'c  \\licii,  with  each  othci-.  thcv  have 
_viehlc(l  Id  ilicir  natural  and  tender  eiuotion-. 
I>ut  Ixilli  hersrs  inidei-stoiid  and  hi'olvi'  intu  a 
steadv  hijii',  and  the  (diasni  was  l)rid'_;'ed. 

'^  Dars  M,)s"  (\v\i\  Dars  Mes"  (ii'it  an"  ol  - 
Mos' !  ""  e\elaiined  Jeirv  as  he  saw"  tlie  two 
horsemen  in  tlie  dislanee.  "  I  )e\-  eoniin",  }A\ -" 
Sallie,  de\-  is  dal  I  La\\-s\-  nic.  Mis"  Sallie.  dev 
want  no  uste  |\t  yo'  ter  l)e'  sheered  dat  a,  way 
"hout  ?kIos"  (  iril'.  He's  des  dal  slaidy  dat  \-o"  e"d 
ealny  waltah  on  he  haid.  let  vv  "lo;ie  S(dini  ain't 
gwine  ter  let  no  trouble  eonii;  tei'  Mos"  (Irif. 
l>ut  I  dus  "low  (hit  "e  oULj'hter  a  tuck  (lis  rhile 
erlony  wid  "iin  ter  look  arter  "ini.  dough.  l);it"s 
;i  fack.  1  knows  dat.  Run  inter  de  kiteheu, 
Idppy  Jane,  an"  tell  yo"  maw  dat  I\Ios"  (rrif  an' 
(tie  ]\Ios"  niose  heah,  an"  she  hotter  i^'it  deni  dar 
ehiekeu  fixins  all  raidv  (juiek  as  ehhrr  she  kin. 
Dey  g'Avinc  ter  bo  hongry,  sho's  yo"  hohu,  dey 
is  dat.'' 

Lijtpy  Jano  S[)od  away  on  her  errand  with 
that  degree  of  enthusiasm  Avhieli  sprang  from  a 
consciousness  of  hearing  a  Avelcome  message 
to    expectant  listeners,    when   suddenly,  as   she 


^l.V   UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  33 

passed  a  group  of  idle  compeers,  one  of  the 
boys  flung  u^jou  her  hjwer  lip,  where  it  lodged 
and  dangled  in  squirming  response  to  her  every 
motion,  a  long  yellow  apple  peeling.  She  did 
not  jiause  in  her  onward  course,  hut  called 
hack  in  belligerent  tones  at  the  offender : 

'•'•  I  des  gwine  ter  lef  dat  erlone  dar,  now,  an' 
show  hit  ter  ]\Ios'  Grif  !  I  is  dat !  You  nasty 
little  •  nigger  !  "  and  she  reappeared,  after  giv- 
ing her  message  in  the  kitchen,  with  the  pen- 
dant peel  still  reposing  upon  the  superfluous 
portion  of  the  feature  to  which  she  was  in- 
debted for  her  name. 
3 


;j4  ax   ryOFFTCTAL   PATH  TOT. 


i'UAVTVAl  IV. 

TiiK  i;i:v.  r;r;iFrTTir  r>Avi:Ni'nirr. 

So  (lesiral)le  :i  oaiulidate  Avas  sprrdilv  or- 
(laiiu'il,  and  HrDtlier  I'rnut  liiiiiSL'ir  rdde  Avitli 
lliu  l)<)y  on  liis  two  lii.>t  roiiud.s  of  tlic  not  far- 
distant  cii'cnit  A\lik'li  \\';;s  soon  to  l)e  placLMJ  in 
cdiarq'i'  of  tliis  vonlli  avIio  liad  so  snddeidy  iak(,'n 
on  tlie  dnties,  rcsponsiljilitirs  and  desires  of  a 
man.  Grif",s  tciniierainunt  lia<l  alwa\'s  Jk'vw  so 
merry  and  fi'ank  and  full  tif  tlic  jovfnl  side  of 
life  lliat  he  found  himself  at  once  ill  at  ease  and 
liampered  hy  the  feeling' that  he  must  curh  his 
spirits.  ] brother  Prout,  whose  own  nature  was 
only  less  buoyant,  patted  Tirif  0:1  the  l)a(dv  and 
advised  acj'ainst  the  ehange  ^Ahiidi  he  elearl}- 
saw  the  l)(»y  AA'as  trying  to  eompass. 

''Doift  grow  dull.  Brother  Davenport,**  he 
said  one  day,  as  they  Avere  riding  toward  the 
home   of  one     of    their    members    to    make     a 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  35 

pastoral  visit.  "  Don't  grow  dull  and  old  Ije- 
fore  3'our  time.  Eeligion  is  joy,  not  gloom. 
Your  message  to  these  people  is  happiness. 
Let  your  bright  young  face  and  voice  bear  tes- 
timony for  the  Lord,  and  prove  to  them  that  all 
His  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  His 
paths  are  paths  of  peace.  Let  your  neighbors 
see  that  in  forsaking  your  old  life  you  have  not 
lost  tlie  best  and  most  glori()Us  jiart  of  it.  You 
take  that  with  you  in  addition  to  the  rest. 
Laugh  with  them  tliat  laugh,  and  weep  with 
them  that  weep.  Lm  an  old  man,  now,  and  I 
never  did  have  your  spirits  ;  but  we  need  just 
that  in  our  labors,  my  son.  Don't  allow  your- 
self to  grow  dull.  AVitli  your  nature  3'ou  will 
win  and  not  drive  souls  to  the  Lord." 

Such  advice  cheered  the  l)oy  and  made  him 
feel  less  strongly  the  great  change  in  his  life. 
The  lono-  hours  of  riding  his  fine  horse  over  the 
roads  and  bj'-paths  of  his  beloved  and  beautiful 
valley ;  the  talks  with  friends  or  strangers 
who  were  never  strangers  for  long,  since  mutual 
acquaintance  or  intermarriage  had  made  of  the 
whole  state  almost  one  family,  proved  attractive 
and  interestino-  to  him.     He  found  in   this  new 


30  AN  UNOFFICIAL   PATIUOT. 

work  a  real  and  fri'sli  ]ia|)]iiiicss.  Fordine' 
swollt'U  sti-caiiis,  scarcliiiiL;'  for  dltseure  iiKnint- 
aiii  passes,  I'idiiiy  aloin'  or  with  a  cliaiicf  com- 
panion tlirou^li  ('xtc'nsi^■('  .stretrlK's  of  woodland, 
lisleniiiL;-  to,  and  ol'len  ans\\-criiiL;'  llio  notes  of 
birds  or  llic  cry  of  some  animal,  were  congenial 
occU])alions  to  tlic  A'ouiig  parson,  and  his  fo]'m 
I'oundcd  ont  and  liis  face  gi'adiially  seltle(l  into 
mature  hnl  gentle  and  kindly  lines,  and  it  was 
now  grown  to  lie  liis  iinariaMe  rule  to  compose 
liis  seinions  as  he  lode.  He  Jie\a'r  wrote  them. 
Some  text  A\()uld  lix  itself  in  his  mind  as  lie 
read  liis  little  hlack  Testament  inghl  or  morn- 
ing-, and  Tip()n  that  text  he  would  build  a 
simple  and  kindlv  tallc  A\hich  reaidied  and 
touched  his  handful  of  listcnei's  as  no  elah)ora- 
tiou  of  rhetori{_'  could  have  done. 

Some  days  he  would  ride  along  for  miles, 
humming  or  singing  a  single  tune,  ^diile  a  train 
of  tliought  fo]'  his  next  sermon  was  building 
itself  up  in  his  mind.  Selim,  the  line  young 
sorrel,  knew  (piile  well  Mhat  to  do,  and  fell 
into  a  walk  or  a  gentle  canter,  according  to  the 
briskness  or  volume  of  the  notes  that  rose  over  liis 
back.     If  ''  How-tedious-and-tasteless-the-liours, 


AX  UNOFFICIAL  rAIRIOT. 


\ylien-Je.sus-no-lo]icrer-I-see,"'  trailed  out  softly, 
witli  lono'  and  undevised  breaks  in  the  eontinu- 
ity  of  sound  and  sense,  Selini  talked  demurely, 
and  saw  no  gliosts  or  interesting  things  whatso- 
ever in  woods  or  stream  or  distant  valley.  But 
wlien  ''  Joy  to  the  world !  The  Lord  has 
come  !  "'  rang  out,  continuous  and  clear,  Selim 
knew  that  he  might  even  shy  at  a  stone,  and 
make  believe  a  set  state  of  terror  at  sight  of  a 
familiar  old  post  or  a  startled  groundhog  ;  or 
that  if  he  were  to  Ijreak  into  an  unexpected 
gallop,  no  harm  would  l)e  done,  and  that  he 
would  be  pretty  sure  of  some  playful  remarks 
and  a  bit  of  teasing  from  the  rider,  whose 
sermon,  Selim  knew  full  Avell,  Avas  finished. 
But  so    long    as    "  Jo}^    to    the    mm-mmmm-m- 

mnnnm-mnnn Let  earth  nnnmm — mmmmm- 

mmmher  King,"  greeted  his  ears,  Selim  knew 
that  the  responsibility  of  ford  or  path  rested 
with  him,  and  many  a  ford  did  Selim  take 
before  his  rider  realized  that  he  had  come  to  it. 
If  swimming  were  necessary,  Selim  struck  out 
with  a  powerful  stroke,  and  came  up  on  the 
other  bank  with  a  proud  stamp  of  his  feet  and  a 
whinny     that   bid    for   the    recognition  of   his 


i]9,  A\  UXOFFICTAL  TWTHIOT. 

prowess  that  lie  knew  was  sui-e  in  eome  to 
liim. 

•■'  Whoa,  old  i\_'llo\A-  I  Slop  and  get  your 
wind  !  Steady  !  That  ^\■as  a  prcttv  stiff  eur- 
ix'ut,  wasn't  it  ?  There,  take  a  iiih])le!  Been 
sonic  p]-t'ttv  lieaA-y  rains  aionnd  here,  haven't 
theie  ?  lint  what  do  you  and  I  care  al)Out  rains 
and  curivnts  ?  Wlioa,  there,  you  rascal,  keep 
your  nose  oif  my  sleeve!  ( ),  you  will,  will 
you?  Well,  thei'C,  there,  there,  I've  wi})ed  it 
all  off  as  o'ood  as  evei'.  Tdi-a-fs  rin'ht ;  inp  off 
sonu^  of  these  fresh  hnds.  Here,  let's  take  our 
hit  out.  Tastes  hetter,  doesn't  it  ?  (_)h,  you  will, 
will  yon,  old  wet  nose  ?  Ila  I  ha  I  ha.!  Selini, 
j-ou  know  more  than  most  folks,  ^-ou  old  hum- 
l)ug  !  " 

If  his  master  sat  down  and  hecame  ahsorhed 
in  thought,  (U-  in  his  little  black  book,  Selim 
would  brc^wse  about  for  an  houi' ;  bnt  at 
the  first  note  of  a  hynni  the  faithful  fellow 
came  to  have  his  bridle  ivplaced,  and  was  ready 
for  a  gallop  or  a  walk,  as  his  rider  should  indi- 
cate. 

At  lirst  the  young  circuit  rider  would  lake  a 
swollen  ford,  when  a  safer  one  could  have  been 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  39 


found  a  mile  or  two  farther  on,  or  he  would 
ride  miles  out  of  his  way  to  make  a  pass  in  the 
mountains,  Avhen,  had  he  known  the  faet,  an 
obscure  but  safe  one  was  near  at  liand.  But,  as 
the  years  passed  by,  both  Selim  and  his  master 
would  have  scorned  a  guide,  and,  night  or  day, 
the  country  became  to  them  like  the  fields  of 
one's  own  estate,  so  familiar  were  they  with  it 
all.  In  this  pass  was  a  great  nesting  place, 
where,  year  after  year,  the  circuit  rider  talked 
aloud  to  the  birds,  and  fancied  that  they  knew 
him.  :\Iany  a  friendly  note  of  reply  to  his 
whi;5tle  or  call  gained  a  hearty  laugh. 

'^Feel  jokey  to-day,  do  you,  you  ridiculous 
Bob  White  ?  Wish  I  could  translate  that  into 
English.  Know  it  was  a  good  joke  from  the 
twist  you  gave  it,  Init  I'm  no  linguist.  Youll 
have  to  excuse  me  if  I  don't  reply  intelli- 
gently," he  would  call  out  to  some  unusually 
individualized  note,  and  Selim  would  whisk  his 
tail  in  utter  disapproval  of  a  man  who  would  so 
foolishly  converse  with  birds— such  little  insig- 
nificant things  as  they  were— when  here  was  a 
full-grown,  blooded  horse,  right  under  his  nose  ! 
The    pride   and   arrogance  of   species  is  great 


40  ^.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


within  lis  all — aiul  Selini  luul  associated  much 
with  man. 

'^  Hello:  AVhere's  that  i^Teat-gTaiidfatlier  of 
yours  that  I  sa^\•  here  tlie  last  time  we  crossed 
your  ford'.'""  (rriflith  remaihi'(l  aloud  to  a  frisky 
little  trout,  as  it  ^^"lliskrll  pasi  S^'liui's  feet. 
'"Hope  nol)0(lv"s  caught  him.  (iive  him  my 
regards  wliru  you  get  home." 

Just  tlu-'U  Selim's  fi-et  struck  the  liauk.  an(h 
as  he  scramhlcd  u[),  he  shied  a  littlt'.  and  his 
master  i-eeoyui/.ed  tlie  long  legs  l)cfoi'e  him  as 
those  of  the  mountaineer  in  homespun  trousers 
and  hickorv  shirt,  who  liad  N'eX(.'d  the  old  Major 
at  the  haptizing  in  the  ()ji(|uan  that  now  seemed 
so  long  ago. 

'•  (lood-niorning- ""  l)egau  the  young'  min- 
ister, A\hen  Lcngtliy"s  '^\\\\  A\-ent  suddenly  to 
Ills  shouldci',  thei'e  was  a  Hash,  a  ri'[)ort,  Selim 
sprang  to  one  si<le,  and  the  mountaineer  pidceil 
with  his  gnui  where  tlie  horse  had  stood. 
'■•  Look  down.  Sav  nothin".  Few  words  com- 
prehend i\\  M-hoh?  :""  he  remai'ked  to  the  aston- 
ished circuit  I'idcr,  as  he  held  up  on  the  end  of 
liis  gun  a  still  Mi'ilhing',  ugly,  dying  snake, 
which  had  been  coiled  to   spring.     He  was  too 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  41 

confused,  or  too  iiK'ntall}-  einlnyouic  to  do  more 
than  grin  in  g-ratitied  silence  at  the  thanks  and 
compliments  from  the  young-  preacher  ;  for  it  was 
somewhat  infrequently  that  Lengthy  Avas  ad- 
dressed hy  one  of  Grifhth's  type,  and  the  very 
sincerity  of  his  evident  admiration  for  the  cir- 
cuit rider  still  farther  handicapped  his  already 
abnormally  deveh^ped  awkwardness  of  manner. 
It  is  possible  that  the  vocabulary  of  this  swarthy 
mountaineer  (wliose  six  feet  and  seven  inches 
of  bone  and  sinew  ha<l  fixed  upon  him  the  only 
name  that  Pastor  Davenport  had  ever  heard 
applied  to  liim),  it  is  possible,  I  say,  that  his 
vocabulary  may  have  been  fuller  than  it  Avas 
generally  supposed  to  be.  Among  his  fellows 
it  is  just  possible  that  he  may  have  ventured 
upon  language  with  more  freedom  ;  but  certain 
it  is  that  when  Lengthy  was  in  the  presence  of 
what  he  was  pleased  to  call  "  quality,"  the  lim- 
itations were  painfully  apparent,  and  there  was 
a  legend — which  appeared  to  liave  as  solid  a 
basis  as  belongs  to  most — -that  whatever  slight 
variations  he  might  venture  upon  as  an  opening 
remark,  the  finale,  if  one  may  so  express  it,  was 
sure  to  be  the  same.      • 


42  .-l.V  UXOFFK'IAL   I'ATUIOT. 

]\lr.  DaviMiport  asked  after  liis  liealtli,  tliat  of 
liis  family,  tlie  iieiylilioi-liDoil  in  general  and 
linally,  imalile  to  exti'ael  anN'lliinL;' liexdiiil  a  nod 
or  a  .single  M'ord  from  tlie  giant  wlio  had  pitched 
tjie  still  s(|nirniing  I'attlesnake  from  the  end 
of  his  gun  into  the  ri\('i-.  (irii'lith  took  another 
taek. 

''  liiver  seems  to  he  unusualh'  high.  Selim 
had  all  he  conld  do.  didn't  von,  old  fellow? 
Been  having  a,  fi'esliet  liere.  haven't  ^"ou  ? 

LeMigthy  pointe<l  with  liis  gun,  to  the  I'em- 
iiants  of  a  rail  fenee,  now  liigh  on  the  liaidc.  in 
the  top  rails  of  which  ehing  half-diy  ^\"eeds  and 
river  refuse. 

"Look  there.  Yaw  vords  eompreheJid  tli' 
■wlnde."' 

(tririith  siuiled,  gave  up  the  task  of  convers- 
ing A\'ith  his  admirer,  shook  the  hridle  on  Selim"s 
neck  and  with  a,  (  hecry  '•  Well,  Tm  ghid  to  have 
met  you.  (iood-hye,"  I'ode  on  towai'd  the 
village  where  he  A^as  soon  to  begin  his  lii'st year's 
pastorate  as  a  '•located"*  preacher.  As  he  rode 
along  he  almost  regretted  the  change.  These 
liad  l)een  liappv  vears  to  the  simplediearted,  hut 
ardent  young  fellow  ;  Init  he  was  consoled  when 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATBIOT.  43 


he  saw  before  liim  in  mental  vision  the 
home  in  which  pretty,  bhiek-eyed  Katharine 
LeRoy  Avas  to  preside — for  tlie  young  cir- 
cuit rider  liad  found  Ids  fate  and,  alas  !  it 
had  not  been  inside  the  Episcopal  paddock 
nor  even  in  the  Methodist  fold — such  pranks 
does  Fate  play  Avith  us,  such  liberties  does 
Cupid  take,  even  with  the  hearts  of  those 
wdiose  mission  it  is  to  deal  Avith  other  things  ! 
Very  early  in  the  new  life  Griflith  had  sta^'ed 
one  night  at  the  li(»spitable  home  of  Katherine's 
father.  In  spite  of  all.  his  heart  was  lonely  and 
his  face  less  bright  than  in  the  old  days.  ]\Iiss 
Katherine  saw.  Miss  Katherine  was  kind — and 
Miss  Katherine's  sweet  face  traveled  many  a 
mile  with  the  young  preacher  after  he,  as  Selim 
was  well  aware,  should  have  been  humming  a 
hymn  and  composing  that  sermon  for  the  mor- 
row. But  Selim  was  discreet  ;  and  when  he 
shook  his  head  or  whinnied  or  changed  his  gait 
and  Griftith  did  not  heed,  Selim  plodded  de- 
murely on  and  waited.  But  as  the  montlis  had 
gone  by  and  Selim  had  carried  the  young 
master  up  the  same  lane  a  few  times  and  had 
observed  the  same  silent  abstraction  after  each 


44  AN  Uy OFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


visit,  he  had  grown  to  know  veiy  ayoII  indeed 
tliat  this  was  a  marked  house  and  that  (irilhth 
liked  t(_)  go  there.  So  it  came  to  pass  that  after 
the  dark  eyes  liad  travchMl  Avilli  tlie  young 
}ireaeher  and  peered  over  ]iis  sliouhh'r  into  his 
'J'estament  and  intcrlVred  sadly  with  the  trend 
of  liis  tlioughls  onsaered  things,  it  had  grown  to 
he  veiy  eertain  to  Gril'lith  that  something  would 
liave  to  he  done.  Then  it  was  that  for  the  hrst 
time  he  thought  liow  little  he  had  to  offer. 
Not  even  a  home  !  Not  even  liisown  eompanion- 
slii[)I  For  all  these  six  years  he  liad  traveled 
his  different  tai-euits  and  sle})t  ^here  he  found 
himself  as  night  eame  on.  and  })reaehed  Iiere  or 
there  as  he  liail  keen  dii'eeled.  His  home  had 
been  literally  in  liis  saddle,  and  his  salary  had 
been  too  insigniheant  to  mention.  The  old 
INhijor,  who  to  a  degree,  liad  heeome  I'econeiled 
to  the  new  order  of  things,  had  at  lirst  insisted 
that  Jerry  follow  and  care  for  the  young- 
master;  hut  Griflith  had  argued  that  it  ill  be- 
came one  who  had  taken  such  a  ste})  to  take 
with  liim  a  Ijod}'  servant,  and  it  had  almost 
broken  Jerry's  lieart  to  l)e  compelled  to  stay  at 
the  old  home-place  and  allow  young  Mos'  Grif 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATE  10 T.  45 


to  saddle  aiid  feed  Seliin,  if  need  be,  and  eare 
for  and  l)rusli  liis  own  elotlies.  This  latter  liad, 
indeed,  led  to  the  loss  of  most  of  his  limited 
wardrobe,  for  he  had  left  behind  him,  at  the 
house  of  some  ''  member"  a  })ieee  of  elothing  or 
some  toilet  artiele  very  often,  at  the  lirst  ;  btit 
as  it  never  failed  to  he  returned  to  liim  on  his 
next  round,  the  leather  saddle-bags  retained 
about  the  same  proportions  from  month  to 
month,  replenished  as  they  were  by  his  mother 
and  Jerry  on  his  frequent  visits  home. 

But  it  was  when  the  thought  of  a  wife  and  a 
home  of  his  own  first  came  to  Griffitli  that  the 
life  of  a  circuit  rider  grew  less  attractive  and 
he  wondered  if  it  would  be  right  to  ask  to  be 
"  located  "  or  "  stationed  "  as  some  of  the  married 
men  were.  To  be  sure  they  must  change  their 
"  station  "'  year  by  year  and  so  tear  up  the  little 
roots  they  could  strike  in  so  brief  a  period,  but 
at  least  it  gave  something  like  a  home  and  a 
"  charge "  to  the  preacher,  and  he — not  his 
family — was  the  sole  subject  of  solicitude  and 
consideration  to  the  authorities  who  governed 
his  movements.  Had  not  the  Lord  said  to  those 
whom  He  sent  forth  to  preach  that  they  must  go 


46 


.1  .Y  UXOFFIf  ■!.  1 L  I\  1  TIUO  T. 


fmin  placr  to  jiluco  Ifavln'.;'  l)(']iiii(l  all  family 
tics'/  Had  iiol  He  sn  lived?  Had  not  Paul 
and  Tiniolliy  and  tiic  twelve?  Later  on  had  it 
not  been  so  AN'itli  tlie  iiiaiiv  until  \\ealt]i  and 
lo\'e  of  ease  and  tin'  thing's  of  this  \\'orld  uii- 
dei'niine(|  the  true  failli  ? 

l>ul  huniau  ualure  is  strong-,  and  all  fadtlis  in 
the  past  have — as  all  in  the  future  will  eoiitintie 
to  do — aeeonnnodate<l  themselves  to  the  human 
needs  and  deniaiids  of  tho>e  mIio  sustain  the  the- 
oi-y  as  iid'allil)le.  immutaMe.  unehanL;e;ihle  and 
unehan^'inL;' :  hut  niodii'y  it  to  lit  the  times,  the 
natures  and  the  eondiiioiis  in  \\hieh  thev  strike 
root.  If  Moha.inmed  will  not  yo  to  the  mount- 
ain, the  niouidain  \v\\\  eonie  to  ^lohanniied. 

So  when  the  youn^'  eireiiil  riiler  had  stop[)ed 
a^'aiii,  as  had  L;i'o\\'n  to  he  his  hahii,  with  the 
himily  of  Katherine  L(dJo\-.  and  \\"hen  she.  with 
(juaint  eo(|uetry,  hail  met  his  e(|ual!y  (|naint 
courtship  hv  linallv  aeceptiiiL;'  him  on  eondilion 
that  he  "take  a  eharye  ""  he  had  aske(l  the  })re- 
sidiny  elder  t()  loeate  him  as  a  married  man  for 
the  next  year  since  he  was  ahout  to  marry. 
IJrother  Prout  had  approved,  and  the  matter  had 
been  settled  with  little  diflicttlty. 


.4.Y   UNOFFICIAL  PATUIOr.  47 


The  courtship  was  unique.  The  young  par- 
son had  grown  to  l)e  so  great  a  favorite  where- 
ever  lie  went  tliat  his  cheerfulness,  his  kindly, 
simple  and  sincere  nature  insured  him  hearty 
welcome  even  outside  of  his  own  flock.  His 
superior  birth  and  breeding  made  him  a  marked 
man  within  his  denomination.  ]Many  were  the 
speculations  as  to  which  rosy-cheeked  Methodist 
girl  he  would  hud  nearest  his  ideal,  and  jokes 
were  many  at  the  expense  of  this  or  that  one  if 
he  but  stopped  twice  at  her  father's  house. 

At  last  it  became  i)lain  that  in  one  neighbor- 
hood he  preferred  to  stay  overnight  with  the 
family  of  Bernard  LeRoy,  a  staunch  and  un- 
compromising Presbyterian,  and  it  did  not 
take  long  for  others  to  discover  why  ;  but  so 
sure  was  ]Mr.  LcRoy,  himself,  that  it  was  to  his 
own  superiority  to  his  neighbors  that  the  visits 
were  due,  that  the  times  when  a  few  words 
alone  Avith  Miss  Katherine  were  possible  were 
few  indeed.  The  large,  readv,  hearty  hospi- 
tality of  the  time  and  of  Virginia  were  ex- 
emplified in  this  household.  All  welcomed 
him.  Old,  young,  white  and  black  alike  ;  and 
the  wide  porch  or  great  rooms  aud  halls  gave 


48 


AX    ryoFFK'lAL  J'ATIUOT. 


space  and  licai'ly  iiivhalioii  to  family  and 
lu'i^ldioi'ly  n'alliLM'iii^'s.  So  it  came  al)()ut  that 
at  lasi  (ii'iliilli  felt  tlial  Ikj  eoidd  wait  no 
IdiiL^'er.  !!e  must  Iviiow  Iiis  fate.  'Idie  deiiniri' 
Katliei'ine  liad  reduced  liim  in  a  mere  spiiil  of 
uiii'est  in  spile  (if  till'  presence  (if  (itliei's,  and 
Mliile  all  sat  talking  of  ci-ii[i^.  pidilics,  r(diL;;i(iii, 
iiei'_;lili(ii'li(iiMl  ]ia[i]ieinnL;'s.  rains,  swollen  streams 
and  tlie  ]'eeent  freaks  of  liu'liiinne-,  tlie  ^"oiing 
nnnister  touk  from  Ids  po(d^et  tlie  little  khudv 
Testament  and  di'ew  a  line  around  tlie  woids, 
"  Wilt  tliou  n'o  with  this  man'/""  and  handiuL;'  it 
to  Miss  Katherine  he  asked:  •"  \A'ill  yt)ti  read 
and  answer  that  (jiiestioii  for  me,  ^ILss  Kath- 
erine?'" Their  eyes  met.  and  althoue'h  fxrif- 
iitli  rettirned  to  his  seat  and  essa\'e(l  to  go  on 
with  the  e(.)n\'ersation  M'ith  her  father,  they  Loth 
understood. 

Her  dark  eyes  ran  over  the  words,  her  eolor 
rose  and  fidl.  hut,  eontrarv  to  the  hope  of  the 
young  })reaeher,  she  did  not  mark  and  return  the 
reply.  She  earelessly  turnt'd  the  leaves  iind  his 
heart  sank.  He  gave  ahstraeted  replies  to  her 
father  and  twiee  failed  to  hear  what  was  said, 
and  still  Miss  Katherine  turned  the  leaves.     At 


Ay  Uy OFFICIAL  rATRIOT.  49 

last  he  believed  that  she  had  either  not  under- 
stood or  that  she  did  not  intend  to  reply,  and 
with  a  sinking  heart  he  rose  to  go.  Selini  had 
been  put  away.  The  circuit  rider  was  always 
expected  to  stay  overnight,  lie  explained  in 
a  vague  way  that  this  time  it  would  be  best  for 
him  to  o'o  to  a  Methodist  neio-hbor's  two  miles 
farther  on.  Was  it  that  reply  which  decided  dark- 
eyed  Katlierine  not  to  farther  tease  her  lover  ? 
Did  she  fear  the  wiles  of  the  plump,  demure 
girl  in  the  quaint,  unribboned  bonnet  who  looked 
such  open  admiration  into  the  eyes  of  the  young- 
preacher.  However  that  may  be,  certain  it  is 
that  at  this  juncture  and  under  cover  of  the 
general  movement  to  send  for  the  guest's  horse, 
Miss  Katlierine  took  from  her  belt  a  pansy  and 
putting  it  between  the  pages  to  mark  where  she 
had  drawn  a  line,  she  gave  the  little  book  back 
to  its  owner.  He  saw  the  movement  and 
glanced  within  :  "  Why  have  I  found  grace  in 
thine  eyes  that  thou  shouldst  take  knowledge 
of  me — seeinof  I  am  a  stranger  ?  "  He  read  and 
his  heart  leaped.  "  A  stranger  !  "  She  was  not 
of  his  fold  I     It  was  that  she  thought  of  I     He 

looked  at  her  and  both  undej'stood.     He  could 
4 


50  AN  Uy OFFICIAL  PATI.'IOT. 

ride  away  now  and  l)otli  Avonld  Ix-  content,  even 
thongli  lie  ^^•e^e  under  tlie  rout"  with  the  (|iiaiiit 
little  Methodist  honiiet. 

As  they  moved  towai'd  the  door  the  two 
young'  people  managed  to  ])ass  oiit  alone  and 
(Trit'lith  took  liei'  in  his  arms  for  one  biicf  in- 
stant and  kissed  lu'r  li[)s. 

"Thank  (Jodl"  he  vhispured.  *•'  'Jdiank 
God,  for  this  last  and  holiest  l)lessing  !  I  love 
you  next  to  my  Saviour,  Ivatherine.  Sometimes 
I  pray  it  may  not  l)e  moi'c  than  I  love  Ilini/' 

She  laughed,  a  soi't  little  rip}»le.  ami  drew 
baek  just  as  her  father  appeared  at  the  door. 

"  I  shall  not  piay  that,""  she  saitl,  as  he 
mounted,  and  the  young  preacher  rode  away 
into  the  darkness  with  Jio  disa})proval  of  the 
heresy  upon  his  radiant  face.  Selim  knew  that 
this  was  a  strange  proceeding — this  late  de- 
parture— and  he  shook  his  head  so  violently 
that  the  buckles  of  his  bridle  rattled.  The 
young  minister  made  no  sign,  l)ut  when,  a  little 
farther  on,  there  suddenly  arose  over  his  Ijack, 
the  notes  of  a  long-forgotten  song,  Selim  cast 
one  eye  backward  and  started  at  the  break-ueck 
pace  of  his  youth. 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  51 

"  The  moon  is  lioaming  brightly,  love, 
Te  tuni  te  tuni  tc  te! 
A  trrsty  crew  is  -waiting,  love, 
Away,  away  with  me!" 

Selini's  surprise  knew  no  Ijounds.  He  liad 
not  heard  that  song  sinee  before  the  day  his 
youiig  master  went,  for  some  strange  reason, 
into  the  ()[)quan  river,  Avith  Brother  Prout. 
Something  unusual  had  ha[)pened,  that  was  very 
clear.  Something  that  carried  the  young 
preacher  quite  out  of  himself  and  into  a  world 
where  sermons  and  hynnis  were  not ;  and, 
although  the  song  was  gay,  Selim  felt  a  tug  at 
his  bridle  that  meant  a  slower  pace. 

'•'■  Yea  !  old  fellow,  y-e-a  I  "  Selim  was  sur- 
prised again.     He  stopped  short. 

"  G'ap  !  g'lang  ! 

"  Far  o'er  the  deep,  o'er  the  deep,  o'er  the  d-e-e-e-p, 
Far  o'er  the  deep  blue  sea  ! 

Far  o'er  the  deep,  o'er  the  deep,  o'er  the  d-a-e-e-p, 
Far  o'er  the  deep  blue  sea  ! 

Oh,  come  and  share  a  sailor's  heart— far  o'er  the  deep 
blue  sea  ! " 

Perhaps  Selim  was  not  exactly  scandalized, 
but  he  felt  that  it  would  not  be  judicious  to 
reach  the  home  of  the  quaint  jMethodist  bonnet 
too  prematurely.     And  Selim  walked. 


52 


AX   I'XOFVKIAL   rATIUOT. 


(IIAV'VVAI    V. 


A    MAN  s    cnxsrilLXCi:. 


TU'T  ;ill  tliis  was  aw:i\"  had;  in  the  years  ^\•hell 
Y(»u  and  i  wci-c  \\n{  l)iirn,  ]i\v  friend,  and.  tliere- 
I'ore.  llie  only  i-ea-(in  I  tell  \  oil  altoul  it  or 
ex[)eet  you  to  he  iiiieresle(I  in  siieli  siin[i]e  and 
far-olT  hives  is  that  you  nia,\-  know  sonietliine-  of 
tlic  early  hal)its  and  surroiindinn's  of  the  man 
\'\'ho.  I  l)eg'an  liy  warnini;'  you,  Ijeeanie  a  law- 
breaker; for,  I  hold  it  to  he  a  sidf-evident  fact 
that  liowever  true  it  is  that  heredity  stamps  the 
character  with  its  liasie  jirinciples  and  (|ualitics, 
it  is  never  A\-iso  to  forget  that  it  is  to  environ- 
ment, circumstance  and  education  that  we 
owe  its  nioditieations  and  the  (hreetion  of  its 
iinal  develo[iment.  l)Ut  now  that  3-ou  Avill  he 
a])le  to  })icture  to  yourself  tlie  man  as  he  then 
was,  and  his  surroundings  and  conditions,  I 
A\-ill  tell  A'ou  as  directly  as  I  can  the  story  r)I' 
his  offense  ;  hut   iirst  I  nuist  explain  that  \y]:v]\ 


AX  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


his  coming  marriag'O  to  ]\Iiss  Katherine  LeRoy 
Avas  annoanrud  at  liis  home,  the  ohl  ]\Iajor 
objected  again,  but  this  time  more  miklly,  to 
the  choice  his  son  had  made. 

•■'  Her  people  are  good,  wholesome,  respect- 
a1)le  folks,  my  son,"*  he  said  ;  '^  but— but,  Grif, 
why  couldn't  you  have  found  a  girl  of — well, 
one  of  tlie  families  you  were  brought  up  ^vith. 
JMind,  boy,  Vm  not  saying  anything  against 
Miss  Katherine.  I've  heard— and  I  don't  douljt 
it — that  she  is  a  uiighty  nice  sort  of  a  girl ; 
but " 

The  ]Major  had  grown  milder  in  his  methods 
with  his  son,  and  he  hesitated  to  speak  words 
which  might  cause  pain  hereafter. 

"Of  course,  Grif,"  he  went,  on  after  an 
awkward  pause,  "of  course,  if  you  love  each 
other— and— and — well,  if  the  thing  is  set- 
tled, I  have  only  to  congratulate  you,  and  to 
say  that  I  am  truly  glad  to  have  you  settle 
clown,  so  I'll  be  able  to  know  where  you 
are.  It's  deucedly  disagreeal;)le  not  to  know 
from  week  to  week  where  to  put  a  finger  on 
you — such  a  tacky  sort  of  shifty  sensation 
about  it.     I  can  know  now  at  least  a  year  at 


5-4  .LV   rXOFFlClAL  PATUIOT. 

a  tinu'.  rerlVctly  I'idicnlons  cuslinn  it  is  to 
ino\c  ;i  pivaclirr  just  wlirii  he  gets  accjuaiutf d 
willi  tlic  |)r(i|il('.  iiiid  tlicy  lK'L;iii  to  tiaist  liim  I 
Ini'cnia]  lialiit  I  IM  as  soon  li\-c  on  a  Ixtat  and 
just  anchor  iroui  tiinr  to  time  in  an(UliiT  sticaui 
and  call  it  lionic — and, — nnd  li\inL;'.  Fvr  come 
to  ]'cs[icct  ^oul■  sincciiU'.  (ill I',  liul  I  can"t  ix-- 
spc'C't  llic  sense  of  a  dciiouiinat ion  tliat  lias  no 
idea  of  the  a1),-olutc  value  of  stabilit  v.  of  con- 
tinuity of  association.  I)et\veen  its  pastor  and  its 
people.  A\diy,  jir^t  lodk  a.t  tlie  tliin^' !  It  up- 
I'Oots  tlie  liest  sentiments  in  l)otli.  aiul  makes  a 
A\andei'ei'  of  i>iie  wlio  oUL;lit  to  be.  ii(_)t  oidv  l>v 
precept.  l)Ut  liy  t'xample.  stable  and  I'aitliful  and 
eoutinuously  true  to  those  \\  ho  hxilc  ii[)  to  him. 
Why,  a.  seaiup  vwn  pose  for  a,  year  or  two  as  a 
saint :  but  it  takes  real  value  to  live  a  lifetime 
in  a  eommtmity  and  l)e  au  ins})iration  and  a 
guide  to  your  mendjers.  Then  just  look  at  it  I 
Xol)odv  M"lio  lias  auy  self-respe(;t  is  going  to 
talk  of  his  inner  life  to  a  stranger  I  AVe  are  all 
alike  in  that.  We  })Ose  and  pretend  and  kee[) 
our  shutters  up,  mentally  and  morally.  Avith  a 
new-comer.  Gad  I  I  can't  see  the  wisdom  nor 
tlie  sense  of  any  such  rules." 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  55 


"■  Has  its  good  [)oints,  father,"  said  Grif, 
whoso  quiet  ehuekle  from  time  to  time  had 
stirred  the  ^Nlajor  to  unusual  earnestness.  He 
wanted  to  get  at  his  son's  real  views  on  the 
subject.  "  Has  some  redeeming  qualities,  after 
all,  father,  (luite  aside  from  the  Bible  teaching 
ui)(>n  which  the  leaders  of  our  chureh  l)ase  it. 
There  are  men — even  ministers,  I'm  afraid, 
whom  one  enjoys'  much  better  when  they  are 
on  another  circuit ;  and  I  may  as  well  confess 
to  you  that  there  are  circuits  a  man  enjoys  a 
good  deal  better  w  hen  he's  not  on  them — after 
he  has  left." 

"Some  of  the  old  boy  in  you  yet,  Grif," 
laughed  the  ]Major,  slapping  his  son  on  the  back. 
"  Better  not  say  that  to  Father  Front,  ov  he  will 
keep  you  on  one  of  that  kind  for  discipline." 

Jerry  was  filled  with  delight  when  told  of 
the  coming  marriage  of  Mos'  Grif.  Jerry's  own 
wife  had  long  since  presented  him  with  twins, 
and  it  was  his  delight  to  show  off  the  antics  of 
these  small  ebony  creatures  to  Griffith  when- 
ever he  was  at  home.  It  was  at  first  arranged 
that  this  family  only  should  go  to  form  the 
new  household. 


56  AN  UXOFFICIAL  I'ATIIIOT. 


The  iiiutterings  Ixini  in  a  diffeieiit  cliiiu'  and 
under  olliei' eonditinns  liad  now  reaelied  projioi- 
tions  -wliicli  could  not  lie  wliolly  ignored,  hi 
many  a  long-  ride  over  llic  niouniain  or  \allev 
paths  in  tlie  past  few  years  liad  ( iril'lilli  [londered 
llie  (piestioii.  and  lie  liad  deliintelv  decided  in  liis 
own  ndnd  that  for  one  wlio  had  cast  liis  hit  with 
the  itineraid  Metliodist  (dergy,  at  least,  the 
ownership  of  slaves  was  wrong'.  He  ■\\"ould 
never  I)Uv  nor  sell  a  human  licing.  Upon  that 
point  his  mind  was  clearly  and  uiialteiahlv  made 
up.  15ut  Jerry  and  his  i'amih'  Avere  to  he  a 
part  of  the  new  household  a\  liile  yet  they 
I'emained.  as  l)efore.  the  old  Ahijor"s  pi'operty. 
'J'o  this  (irillith  had  consented  readilv,  for  Miss 
Katherine  must  have  an  ellicient  cook  and 
Jerry  Avould  he  of  inlinite  use.  Grillith  had 
di'awn  a  jiicture  of  a  small  house  in  the  village 
ill  which  this  heautiful  dream  of  his  was  to  he 
realized  :  lint,  as  the  time  drew  near,  the  old 
^lajor  developed  his  own  plans  with  such  skill 
as   to  carry  his    point. 

When  the  house  was  to  ])C  looked  for  he 
said  :  '■'■  See  here,  (Irif.  you  are  a  good 
deal    younger    than    I    am,    and    some    of    the 


^l.Y  UNOFFICIAL  PArUIOT.  57 

older  slaves  are  pretty  hard  to  manage.  'J'liey 
caii"t  work  a  grt-at  deal,  and  they  get  into 
misehief  one  way  and  another.  Look  at  that 
set  over  in  the  end  ealjin — tliey  always  did 
like  you  best — and  sinee  you  have  1)een  gone  so 
much  they  are  a  gO(»d  deal  of  tiouble  to  me. 
They've  got  to  be  cared  for  somehow.  I  ^^  ish 
you'd  take  them.  They  can  do  a  lot  of  useful 
things  if  they  are  away  from  the  otliers,  and  you 
can  P'et  twice  as  mucli  ^^'ork  out  of  them  as  I 
can.  They  are  stul)l)oi'n  with  me,  and  it  wears 
my  soul  out  to  deal  witli  'em.  I've  needed 
your  help  a  good  many  times  since  you've  been 
awa}',  but  I  did  not  like  to  say  much.  I  tliink, 
now  you  are  going  to  settle  dovrn,  that  you 
ought  to  think  of  j'our  father's  needs  a  little, 
too." 

Grif  winced.  He  recalled  that  he  had 
always  pushed  liis  father's  problem  aside  in 
liis  thoughts  when  he  had  settled  or  solved  liis 
own.  He  realized  how  unfair  that  was  He 
felt  the  force  of  the  Major's  complaint. 

"  Of  course,  I'll  do  anything  I  can,  father, 
to  help  you  ;  but  I  can't  take  a  lot  of  negroes  to 
a  villao-e  and '' 


AX  rx OFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


'•'  Tli;ifs  jiLst  it  I  Just  it,  (_'x;i('tly  !  Of  course 
you  t*;urt.  1  (li(lu"l  iulrml  in  ;isk  nni  just  vet, 
])ut  I  waul  you  to  j^iw  u[)  tliat  toolisli  idea 
of  takiuL;'  Kallicriiie  l(»  town  {n  \[yr.  She  cau"t 
stand  it.  ^  ou  aix'  asking-  eiiouyli  of  a.  A\'oinau, 
tiod  Isuow's,  to  ask  iicr  to  }»ut  up  \\illi  \-our  sort 
of  life  auyliow,  k-i  ak)iie  askiiii.;'  a  L;ii-1  that  lias 
])('('M  I'csjiccialily  l'roUL;lit  u.j)  on  a  }>laiilaliou  to 
give  all  tliat  up  and  go  to  a.  uiiseral)le  little 
village.  It  is  not  decent  to  live  tliat  Mav  ! 
Coopi'il  up  \\\{]i  a  lot  of  oilier  folks  in  a  siring 
of  nari'ow  streets  I  ]"d  a.  good  deal  rallier  go  to 
jaal  and  done  \\illi  it.  Xow,  \\lial  I  ^vanl  and 
what  I  need  you  to  do.  is  to  take  that  other 
plantation— tlie  one  do^\-n  on  the  la^cr — \"our 
graudlalher's  place — and  take  some  of  the 
hands  down  there  and  you  can  let  them  woi'k 
the  place.  J  low  in  the  ]iame  of  thunder  do  ^"ou 
suppose  you  and  Ivalherine  ai'e  going  to  live  on 
your  I'idiculous  salary  ?  Sadary  !  It  isn't  enough 
to  dignify  by  the  name  of  wages — let  alone 
salaiy  !  Y'  can't  live  on  it  t(.)  save  vour  lives. 
Kalhc]-ine  caii't "" 

''  I'.ut,   father "" 

'•'  That  farm  down  there  is  plenty  ueai'  enough 


^l.V  VyOFFICIAL  PATUIOT.  59 

to  town  for  you  to  ride  in  every  single  day  if  you 
want  to  and — look  here,  l)oy,  don't  you  think 
you  owe  a  little  something  to  your  father  ?  I'm 
getting  old.  You  don't  begin  to  realize  how 
hard  it  is  on  me  to  meet  all  these  difficulties 
that  other  men's  sons  help  them  with." 

The  Major  had  struck  that  cliord  with  full 
realization  of  its  proljable  effect,  and  he  watched 
with  keen  relish  the  troubled  and  shamed  look 
on  the  face  before  him.  Griffith  made  a  move- 
ment to  speak,  but  the  jMajor  checked  him  with 
a  wave  of  the  hand. 

"  That  farm  is  just  going  to  Avreck  and  ruin, 
and  I  haven't  the  strength  to  attend  to  tliat 
and  this  both.  Besides,  these  negroes  have  got 
to  be  looked  after  better.  Pete  is  o-rowino-  more 
and  more  sullen  every  year,  and  Lippy  Jane's 
temper  is  getting  to  be  a  holy  terror.  She  and 
Pete  nearly  kill  each  other  at  times.  They  had 
a  three-cornered  light  with  Bradley's  mulatto, 
Ned,  the  other  day,  and  nearly  disaljled  him. 
Bradley  complained,  of  course.  Kow,  just 
suppose  Xed  dies  and  Bradley  sues  me  ?  It 
seems  to  me  it  is  pretty  hard  lines  when  a  man 
has  a  son  and " 


CO  AX  Uy OFFICIAL   PATHIOT. 


''  lUit,  father "' 

"Now.  look  luTo.  ririf,  doiTt  'ImU"  mo  any 
moiv.  I'vf  had  tliat  liouse  on  tlic  ollici'  jihice 
all  put  ill  order  and  tlic  iU'L;'ro  (juai'lei's  lixrd  iip. 
The  nei^'roes  can  IxdoiiL;'  to  iiie.  of  coursf.  if 
3'OU  still  ha\-c  lh;it  silly  idea  in  \<>[\r  head 
ahout  not  \vaniin;_;'   lo  owai  theui,   l)Ul    \oii  li;ive 

o-ot    to    ]i(dp    iiif  with   them    oi- Tlicn    damn 

it  all.  (ii'if.  I  doiTt  intend  it  to  lie  saiil  that 
a  daii!4-hter-in-la\\'  of  u//'iic  lias  to  lixc  in  a 
iiastv  little  reiiteil  hou.^e  ^\■ilhlalt  so  much  as  a 
garden  })ateh  to  it.  It  is  simply  disgraceful 
for  you  to    ask   lier    to    do   it  !     I "' 

"  Fallier,  father  I  *"  said  (irif.  ^vith  his  voice 
treinhliiig  : '' I — you  are  always  so  good  to  me, 
Init  I  — I •' 

Tlie  old  Major  looked  over  his  glasses  at  his 
son.  J'^aeh  understood,  and  each  feigneil  that  he 
did  not.  The  Major  assumed  wrath  to  hide  liis 
emotion.  "  Now.  look  liere,  Cirif,  I  don't  want  to 
hear  amthing  more  ahout  this  business!  \  ou 
make  me  mad  I  Wdio  am  I  to  go  to  for  help  in 
managing-  my  land  and  my  niggers  if  I  ean't  de- 
pend on  3-ou  for  a  single  thing?  That's  the 
question.      Confound  it  all  !    Tm  tired  out,  I  tell 


^.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  61 

you,  looking  after  the  lazy  lot,  and  now  you  can 
take  your  sliare  of  the  work.  AVhat  am  I  o-oino- 
to  do  with  the  gang  if  Fve  got  to  watch  'em 
niglit  and  day,  to  see  that  they  are  kept  busy 
enough  not  to  get  into  trouble  with  each  other, 
and  get  nie  in  trouble  with  my  neighbors.  Just 
supjDOse  Pete  had  killed  Bradley's  Ned,  then 
wliat  ?  Why,  Fd  liave  been  sued  for  a  81,000 
and  Pete  would  have  been  hung  besides  I  I  tell 
you,  boy,  I'm  too  old  for  all  tliis  worry,  and  I 
think  it's  about  time  I  had  a   little   help  from 

you.     I •" 

The  young  preacher  winced  again  under  the 
argument,  although  he  kncAv  that  in  part,  at 
least,  it  was  made  for  a  purpose  other  than  the 
one  on  the  surface.  In  pai't  he  knew  it  was 
true.  He  knew  that  his  father  had  found  the 
task  heavy  and  irksome.  He  knew  that  the 
negroes  preferred  his  own  rule,  and  that  they 
were  happier  and  more  tractable  with  him  than 
Avith  the  old  'Squire.  He  knew  that  as  the 
times  had  grown  more  and  more  unsettled  and 
unsettling,  his  father  had  twice  had  recourse 
to  a  hired  overseer  and  that  the  results  had 
been  disastrous   for  all.     He   knew  that  other 


62  ^-Y   UNOFFICIAL  PATIIIOT. 

sons  t(Mik  imirli  of  tliis  t-dvc  and  I'esponsibility 
from  llic  aging-  slu.uldfi's  of  tla-ir  failicrs.  He 
liL'sitati'd — and  ^\•as  lost.  lie  A^'ould  take  the 
negroes  A\itli  him  and  live  on  the  other  pkiee 
— at  least  one  year  I 

But  \\lien  ]\Iiss  Katherine  brouglit  A\'ith  her 
lier  falhcr's  gift  of  slaves — which  ^Ir.  LeKoy  had 
tried  Iiard  to  make  sutlieiently  numerous  to  im- 
press the  old  Major— (Irif,  to  his  dismav,  found 
liimself  oversee)'  and  practically  the  owner  of 
twenty-two  negroes — and  he  on  a  salary  of  ><200 
peryear  I  AVith  a  plantation  to  work,  the  matter 
of  salary  Mas,  of  course,  of  minor  importance. 
But  (irihitli  had  not  failed  to  see  glimpses  of  a 
not  far-distant  future,  in  these  }iast  few  years  as 
he  had  read  or  heard  the  urgent  questions  of 
political  policy  A\']iich  had  now  becomeso  insistent 
in  the  newer  border  states — a  future  in  whicli 
this  life  must  l)e  change(l.  liiots  and  bloodshed, 
lie  knew,  had  followed  in  the  train  of  argu- 
ment and  legislati\e  action.  Slaves  had  run 
away  and  been  traeked  and  returned  to  angry 
masters.  But  the  basie  question  as  to  whetlier 
it  was  right  for  man  to  hold  property  in  man 
had,    so    far,    been    presented    to    his    mind    in 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  FAT  RIOT.  63 

the  form  of  a  religious  scri-i[)le  and  with  a 
merely  personal  a})plieation.  Sliouhl  niijii.^fers 
of  his  CliurcJi  buy  and  sell  black  men  ?  Grit'litli 
had  deiinitely  settled  in  his  own  mind  that  they 
should  not.  But  whether  they  should  inherit 
01'  acquire  by  marriage  such  property,  had, 
until  now,  hardly  presented  a  serious  face  to 
him.  And  now,  in  the  form  in  which  they  came 
to  him,  he  saw  no  present  way  out  of  the 
difficulty  even  had  he  greatly  desired  it. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  to  you,  my  friend,  who 
were  not  born  in  these  troublous  times,  and  to 
you,  my  neighbor,  who  lived  in  another  latitude, 
the  problem  looks  simple  enough.  "  He  could 
free  the  slaves  which  were  in  his  power,"  will 
be  your  hrst  thought.  "  I  would  liave  done 
that,"  is  3-our  next,  and  yet  it  is  dollars  to 
doughnuts  that  you  would  have  done  nothing 
of  the  kind.  Oh,  no  !  I  am  not  reflecting  upon 
your  integrity,  nor  your  parsimony — although 
I  have  not  observed  any  tendency  you  may  have 
toward  dispensing  with  your  property  by  gift — 
but  to  other  and  more  complicated  and  complicat- 
ing questions  with  which  you  would  have  found 
yourself  surrounded,  and  with  which  your  pri- 


04  AX  rXOFFK'IAL  PATIUOr. 


vatiMiicliiialidiis  would  have  eome  into  violt'iit 
eollision.  as  ( li  il'liili  1  )a vi'ii[!oi-t  (lisrovcix'(l  ;  a;i(l 
siirclw  in\'  IriiMid,  \(iii  A\(iiild  not  i;ai\'  to  l)c 
written  n|)  in  tniiwc  ^■l■al■s  as  a  violator  of  tl  c 
law — yon  wlio  value  so  li^litly  "  tliat  class  oi' 
people  ""  tlial  A'ou  lia\('  often  said,  (piite  openlw 
that  von  eare(l  \-ei'v  little  to  even  read  alioni 
them,  and  deiiloi'e(l  the  faet  that  writers  ivunhl 
thrust  them  into  respeetahle  literatni'el 

(irillith  had  watched  tlie  coining;-  stoi'iu  in  tlie 
soutliwest.  lie  had  hoped  and  played  (and 
until  now  he  had  h(die\-cd  )  that  for  liiniself,  at 
least,  the  (piestion  A\as  settled,  lie  A\'ould  never 
ou'u  .slaves,  therefore  he  would  not  l)e  called 
upon  to  hear  any  personal  part  in  the  eonniiiL;' 
strug'gde.  r>nt  a  wife's  })ropeily  was  a  hushano',. 
propertv  in  Ndi'i^ania,  in  those  far-otl  harlxiric 
(lavs,  and  so  (rrifiith  found  himself  in  an  anoma- 
lous position,  hefoi'e  he  knew  it.  foi'  ^Ir.  Lello}' 
had  given  Kalherine  lier  slaves  as  a  marriage 
portion,  and  had  stri\-en  to  make  sure  that  tlieii' 
nuuiher  and  (piality  should  do  lionor  to  tlie 
daughter-ill-law  of  her  prospective  hushaiid't; 
father.  Mr.  Lelioy  had  an  exalted  opinion  of 
the  position  and  importance  of  the  old    ^lajor — 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  65 


or  as  he  always  called  him,  of  '^  old  'Squiah 
Davenpoaht." 

But  so  matters  stood  until,  a  few  years  later, 
an  accident  happened,  which  resulted  in  the 
death  of  the  old  ]Major.  When  the  will  was 
opened,  Griffith  found  himself  forced  to  con- 
front the  question  of  ownership  of  slaves,  fairly 
if-  not  fully.  The  will  left  "to  my  beloved 
son,  Griffith,  all  the  slaves  now  living  with  him, 
together  ^^dth  the  farm  upon  which  he  now  lives 
and  the  old  homestead;  with  the  admonition 
that  he  care  for  and  protect  the  old  slaves  and 
train  and  employ  the  young."  His  other  prop- 
erty was  devised  in  accordance  with  his  wishes, 
leavino-  to  his  grandchildren  and  distant  rela- 
tives the  other  slaves  and  live  stock. 

INIeantime,  as  this  would  indicate,  there  had 
heen  born  to  Griffitli  several  children — three 
boys  and  a  little  baby  girl — which  now  filled 
the  hearts  and  home  with  life  and  joy. 

The  exigencies  of  his  ministerial    life   had  so 

far   made    it    necessary    for   him    to    leave    the 

plantation    but     twice.       Father      Prout    had 

managed  to  have    his   "  stations  '"  rotate  from 

one  small  town  to  another   in   the   immediate 
5 


66 


AX  rxOFFICIAL  PATUlOT. 


vieinit}',  and,  Avilli  his  grouiug  stoutness,  Mr, 
]);n'eiip()il  IkuI  taken  ti»  drixinL;-.  clii^'lly,  since 
Selini  liad  l)('rn  retii'ed  from  acti\'e  service,  to 
and  from  Ids  places  of  nu'clinL;-  \\eelc  after 
week.  'r\\ii'e.  for  a  year  eacli  time,  lie  liad 
l)een  com}i(dl(_M|  to  leave  tlie  })lantalion  in  cliai'^'e 
of  Jei'ry  and  I'cniove  to  ;i  more  distant  to\\"n, 
Avliere  tlic  small  lionsi,'  and  iniaccnstomed  con- 
ditions had  I'csultcd  in  ill  health  for  Katherine 
and  the  children.  lint  now  thev  A\'ere  on  the 
''jilace"  a!_;ain  and  A\eie  o\\]iersof  mitch  that 
re(|nii'ed  thai  they  hiee  ku^;er  and  more  com- 
plicated respoiisihilities — and  \\\\w{  was  to  l)e 
done?  (iriflith  had  inade  np  his  mind,  defi- 
nitely, that  he  did  not  want  his  sojis  to  gro\\'  up 
in  a  slave-owning  atmosphere.  He  had  read 
and  thonght  nundi  of  the  strnggde  over  the 
i\[issouri  C'ompi'omise  l>ill.  He  luul  lio])ed  great 
things  from  it,  and  had  hi^'held  its  final  re})eal 
M'ith  dismay,  lie  had  seen,  so  he  helieved,  in 
it  the  arm  that  was  destined  to  eheck  if  not  to 
wipe  out  human  slavery.  How  this  was  to  he 
done  he  did  not  know  :  hut  that  he  hoped  for 
it,  for  all  men,  he  knew.  For  himself  he  was 
quite  sure  that  as  a  preacher,  if  not  as  a  man,  it 


.l.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


was  wrong.  lie  luul  determined  to-  so  educate 
liis  sons  that  tliey  ^\"ould  not  blame  liim  iov 
shutting  tliem  out  frcm  at  least  tlie  inherited 
2)ossibilities  of  the  institution  which  had  fallen 
upon  him.  But  now,  what  could  be  done  ?  The 
^Major's  will  had  thrown  the  task  deiinitely  upon 
lihn  and  had  greatl_y  increased  the  difiiculties. 
He  knew  that  it  was  against  the  laws  of  his  state 
to  free  the  negroes  and  leave  them  Avithin  its 
borders.  Exactly  what  the  terms  of  the  law- 
were,  he  did  not  know;  l)ut  it  was  easj-  to 
realize  its  need  and  force.  Free  negroes  were 
at  once  a  menace  to  all  parties  concerned,  both 
wdiite  and  black.  They  had  no  work,  no  homes, 
no  ties  of  restraint  and  responsibility.  They 
were  amenable  to  no  one  and  no  one  was  their 
friend.  They  could  starve,  or  they  could  steal, 
or  they  could  go  Xorth.  If  they  did  the  first — 
in  a  land  of  plenty — they  were  not  made  of  that 
stuff  out  of  wliich  Imnian  nature  is  fashioned, 
be  that  nature  encased  in  a  w  liite  or  in  a  black 
skin.  If  they  did  the  second  they  fared  far 
w^orse  than  slaves — the  chain-gang  for  home 
and  the  law  for  a  driver  has  horrors  worse  than 
even  slavery — at  least  so  thought  the  colored 


68  AX   UXOFFICIAL   I'ATIUOT. 


man  of  iSo^.  l)Ut  if  tlicv  altcin[)tc(l  to  acliieve 
llie  last  (if  ilic  llir.M^  altvriiat ivcs  tlicir  lot  was 
liardest  of  all.  They  must  leave  home,  family, 
wife.  childnMi,  parciils  a;i(l  iViriids — all  that 
made  life  eiidiii'ahle  to  a  [laticiit.  alfeclioiiate, 
simple  nature — and  lind  what '/  Neither  friends, 
A\'(deome  no)-  'work  !  A  climate  in  whieh  ihev 
sulfei-ed.  a  |ieii|)lc  amou^-st  whom  their  lai'it}' 
and  the  sti'aii^-eiifss  of  their  speech  and  color 
made  of  them  (>l)jects  of  curiosilvand  aversion 
— where  the  very  children  lied  from  them  in 
flight — little  childi'en  like  those  ^\llom  they  Iiad 
nursed  and  fondled  and  who  alwavs  had  loved 
tlu'm  !  Tliey  AV(iuld  tiud  the  })ix'judice  a^'ainst 
their  color  intense  lieyond  belief,  for  few"  indeed 
were  the  men  or  ^\'omen  in  the  free  stales  who 
wonhl  n'ive  M'ork  of  anv  kind  to  tliese  strann'e- 
looking'  and  stranger-speaking  creatures.  In- 
deed, no  one  M'as  more  shocked  to  learn  than 
^^■as  Griflith,  that  in  some  of  the  Lorder 
.states  it  was  illegal  to  give  emjjloyment  to 
these  ex-slaves.  All  this  (friflith  was  destined 
to  learn  to  his  cost.  lie  knew,  already,  that 
slaves  trained  as  his  father's  wei'e,  had  no  concep- 
tion  of  hard  and   constant  work   such  as   was 


.l.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  GO 


demanded  oi  the  noilliern  laborer.  He  knew 
that  they  eouhl  not  hope  to  eompete  with  wliite 
^^■ol■knlen  in  a  far-away  hekl  of  hxbor  even  coukl 
tliey  get  the  Avoik  to  do.  He  knew  that  they 
Avouhl  be  tlie  si)ort — where  they  were  not  the 
oanie  and  victims — of  those  white  hiborers.  lie 
knew  that  the  employer  (were  they  so  fortunate 
as  to  find  one)  would  not  be  slow  to  learn  that 
they  accomplished  less  and  ate  more  than  did 
their  white  rivals.  That  alone  would,  of 
course,  settle  their  chances  of  competition,  and 
starvation  or  crime  would  again  become  their 
only  alternative. 

A  freed  slave,  in  a  country  where  slavery 
still  existed,  was  a  sorry  and  unhapi\v  spectacle  ; 
but  a  freed  slave  in  competition  with  freemen 
was  a  tragedy  in  black  ! 

Griffith  had  fought  his  battle  alone.  It  is  true 
that  he  had  talked  much  with  his  wife  on  the 
subject,  and  it  is  also  true  that  her  faith  in  and 
love  for  him  made  her  ready  acquiescence  in  his 
final  decision  a  matter  of  course  ;  but  with  no 
outlook  into  the  political  world,  with  no  mental 
scope  beyond  the  liorizon  prescribed  as  suitable 
for  women,  she  could  give  him  nothing  but  loy- 


70  AX   ry OFFICIAL  PATUIOT, 


alty.  She  could  echo  his  sentiments.  Slie 
conhl  not  stininhite  or  aid  liis  tlion^ht.  Attuned 
to  folhnv,  slie  couhl  not  h'ad,  and  Mas  eijuall}' 
unhtted  to  kee})  even  step  withliini  side  l)yside. 
Slie  did  not  share,  iinr  couhl  slic  nndersta-iid, 
licr  hushand"s  acute  mental  misL^ivinL;s  and  h)re- 
hodinys.  Tlie  few  times  slie  had  spohen  to  lier 
father  of  them,  he  had  sai<l  lliat  slie  need  not 
woriy.  "(iriflith  is  no  fool.  He'll  get  over 
this  idiotic  notion  l)ef"ore  long.  It  is  reading 
tliose  dannied  Yankee  s])eeches  that  is  the 
trouhle  with  liim.  You  just  l)e  patient.  Iledl 
get  over  it.  The  old  *S(pure  kne\\'  how  to  cure 
liim.  Like  to  know  what  he'd  do  witli  all  those 
niggers?  But  (rrifhtli  is  no  fool,  I  tell  you,  if 
lie  is  a  ]Methodist."  Katherine  had  not  relished 
the.  last  I'emark,  and  she  did  not  believe  that 
her  father  (piite  eom})reheiuled  how  deep  a  hold 
on  Grifiitli  tla:'  idea  of  freedom  for  the  blacks — 
and  freedom  from  ownership  of  them  for  him- 
self— had  taken  ;  but  she  was  silenced. 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  71 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"My  couscieoce  whispers." — SJiakespeare. 

But  at  last  the  crisis  came.  One  of  the  girls — 
Sallie,  a  faithful  creature — had  married  '*  Brad- 
ley's John,"  and  now  John  was  about  to  be  sold 
and  sent  to  Georgia.  Either  John  must  be  sepa- 
rated from  his  wife  and  child,  or  Sallie  must  be 
sold,  or  jMr.  Davenport  must  buy  John  and 
keep  him  here !  The  final  issue  had  come ! 
John  begged  to  be  bought.  Sallie  pleaded  not 
to  be  allowed  to  be  sold,  nor  to  be  separated 
from  her  husband.  Katherine  agreed  to  plead 
for  Sallie,  who  had  been  her  own  playmate  ever 
since  she  could  remember. 

"  Git  Mos'  Grif  ter  buy  John,  Mis'  Kate  !  Fo' 
God's  sake,  Mis'  Kate,  git  'im  ter  buy  John  I 
Yoh  kin.  I  knows  mon'sous  well  dat  yoh  kin  ! 
He  gwine  ter  do  jes'  what  yoh  tell  'im  ter.  I 
knows  dat  he  is,  Mis'  Kate  !  " 

Mr.  Davenport  was  in  his   study.     Katherine 


72  AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


had  ox})laiiK'(l  the  case  to  liim  fully,  and  Sallie's 
Ijlack  face  peered  in  behind  him,  with  anxious 
eyes,  watching  and  listening  to  her  mistress. 

'•  Katherine,  I  cannot  !  I  cannot  }iay  money 
for  a  liuman  being.  1  liave  yielded,  step  by  sleji, 
to  what  I  felt  \\as  wr(jng  long  ago.  until 
now  I  am  eanght  in  the  tangled  threads  of  tliis 
awful  system — l)ut  I  cannot!  I  ciouiof  pay 
money  for  a  htiman  soul  I  "' 

Suddenly  Sallie  fell  at  his  feet.  and.  swaying 
to  and  fro,  swting  her  sttuxly  frame  like  a  reed 
in  the  AA'ind. 

"  Oh,  ]Mos'  Grif,  fo'  Ciod's  sake.  l)uy  John  I 
Ain't  vo'  got  no  nuissv.  Mos"  Giif  ?  Don'  let 
dat  ]M(ts"  liradk'V  sen'  Jolui  "way  off  dar  I  I 
gwine  ter  die  right  heah.  if  yo"  don'  he]i  me, 
iMos'  Grif  I  .Vin'l  T  lieen  a  good  giil  ?  ^Vin't  I 
nus  de  chillun  good,  an'  did'n  I  pull  ]\Ios'  Bev- 
erly outeii  de  ci'ick  when  he  fall  in  an"  wus  mose 
drowndcd?  ( )h.  fo"  Christ's  sake.  ^los'  G]if.  btiy 
my  John  I  lie  gwine  ter  wtdc  fo'  yoh  all  his 
life  long,  an'  he  gwine  ter  l)e  good  I  " 

She  swayed  and  wept  and  moaned.  She  held 
hei'  l)aby  to  her  breast  and  cried  ottt  for  John, 
and  then   she  held   it   out   toward   Griftith  and 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  73 


stared  through  streaniino-  eves  at  his  face  to  see 
if  he  had  relente(L  And  slill  Grillith  was 
silent.  Ilis  teetli  were  set  tight  togetlier,  and 
his  nails  cut  his  palms,  l)ut  he  said  not  a    word. 

"Mos'  Grif,  iNIos'  Grif !  what  did  Ciod 
A'mighty  gib  voh  all  dis  Ian'  an'  houses  an' 
money  fo"?  What  He  gih  yoli  my  ^lis'  Kath'- 
rine  fo"?  'Cause  He  know  yoh  gwine  ter  Ije 
o'oodan'  kine,  an' — an'  datyoh  gwine  ter  he  good 
ter  u^  !  Mos'  Grif,  de  good  Lawd  ain't  fo'got 
we  alls  des  kase  we  ]»lack !  " 

She  rolled  the  baljy  on  the  floor  beside  lier 
and  grasped  both  of  her  master's  clenched  hands, 
and  struggled  to  open  them  as  she  talked.  She 
seemed  to  think  if  they  would  but  relax  that  he 
would  3'ield. 

"  Mos'  Grif,  we  bofe  gwine  ter  wuk  fo'  yoh, 
an'  pray  fo'  yoh,  and  dat  baby,  dar,  gwine  ter 
wuk  an'  pray  fo'  yoli  all  ouh  lifes  long — all  de 
days  ob  ouli  lifes,  des  fo'  dat  little,  teenchy  six 
hund'ud  dollahs,  what  ^los'  Bradley  got  terhab 
fo'  John  !  xVll  ouh  lifes  long  !  All  ouli  lifes 
long,  we  gwine  ter  wuk  and  pray  fo'  yoh,  des 
fo'  dat  little,  teenchy  six  hund'ud  dollahs  ! ! " 

Mrs.  Davenport  put  lier   baud   on   lier  bus- 


74  AX  UNOFFICIAL  PATIIIOT. 

band's  sliouLlcr.      Ik-r  eyes   A\'ure    M'et   and    her 
li})S  tiendiled. 

'^  Ciril'liili,  i,\]i;tt  liai-ni  can  it  do?  And  see 
liow  iiiKcli  good  !  (iriliiilj,  A\-e  ^\■ill  nil  l()\'e  you 
better  if  you  will.  I  ean"t  bear  to  see  Sallie  tlie 
\\\\\  slie  lias  been  these  last  two  months — ever 
sinee  it  was  deeided  t<.)  sell  John  to  that  man 
when  he  conies.  It  is  lieai'l-breakiuL;-.  You 
know,  darling,  she  played  with  me  evi/r  since 
we  A\'erc  babies.  ;ind  she  has  l)efn  n"  cjoi'd  to  ]nv 
cliildrcn — "///■  children,  Cirii'lilh  !  "'  She  low- 
ered her  voice  to  a  mere  whisper:  '"('aiMiod 
want  you  to  l)e  so  cruel  as  this,  (irillilh?"" 

Mr.  Davenport  had  never  dreamed  that  any- 
thing he  mighl  h'el  it  his  duly  to  do  would 
seem  to  his  wife  like  crueltw  It  hurt  him 
sorely.      lie  hioked  u[)  at  lu-r  with  a  drawn  face. 

'•  Kalheiine,"'  he  said,  "lei  us  give  Sallie  her 
freed(.>m,  and  let  her  go  with  -John.*' 

'•  Xo,  no,  no,  no!  I  ain't  gwiiie  ter  go  wdd 
dat  n)an  I  I  ain't  g'wine  ter  lie  no  free  wife  nig- 
ger, 'pendin'  on  him  I  I  ain't  gwine  ter  lealje 
Mis'  Katli'rine,  nedder ! "'  She  arose  in  her 
fear,  which  was  turning  to  wrath.  ''  ]\Iis'  Kate, 
yoh    ain't   gwine  ter  let  him   gib  me  away,  is 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  75 

yoh  ?  I  don'  Lelong  to  nobody  ter  gib  au^ay, 
but  des  tcr  my  Mis'  Kate,  an'  she  ain't  gwine 
ter  gib  me  'way  arter  I  done  nus  her  ebillun  an' 
save  de  life  of  Mo.s'  Beverly !  Dat  ain't  de  kine 
o'  lady  my  Mis'  Kate  is  !  O  i\lis'  Kate,  Mis' 
Kate  !  T  done  wisbt  yoli'd  a-gone  and  married 
dat  Mos'  Tom  Harrison  dat  time  wat  'e  ax  you! 
He  don't  lub  money  dat  mueli  dat  be  can't  spabr 
a  little  six  bund'ud  doUabs  ter  sabe  me  an' 
Jobn  an' — an' — an'  dis  beab  l)aby  1  '' 

Sbe  caugbt  up  tbe  baliy  from  tlie  floor  again 
and  beld  it  toward  ber  master. 

"  Dar !  take  bit  an'  kill  bit  fus'  as  well  as 
las' !  kase  /o-wine  ter  die,  an'  bit  o-wine  ter  be 
ni}'  ]\los'  Grif  dat  kill  bote  of  us.  God  gwine 
ter  know  "bout  dat !  Jobn  gwine  ter  tell  'im  ! 
Jesus  gwine  ter  know  dat  six  little  bund'ud 
dollabs  is  wuf  more  ter  my  Mos'  Grif  dan  me" 
an'  j'ob  an'  Jobn,"  sbe  moaned,  bolding  tbe 
baby  up  in  front  of  ber.  "  All  free,  bofe  ob  us, 
ain't  wuf  dat  little  mucb  t'  onb  ]Mos'  Grif  I 
All  free,  bofe  ob  us  !  A  little,  teencby,  ugl}^ 
six  bund'ud  dollabs  !  He  radder  bal)  bit  in  de 
bank  er  in  de  desk  er  in  be  pocket — dat  little 
six  bund'ud  dollabs  wbat's  mo'  bigfo-er  dan   all 


76  AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 

ol)  us — uii"  mo*  l)iL;L;'t-'i'  <laii  ]\Iis*  K;itt'"s  lul)I"' 
She  fell  to  sol)l)in-'  again.  ^- Des  dal  little 
uiucli  !  I  )('s  (lat  liitli'  imicli!""  she  moaned. 
"  .Ml  ol)  us  ^'ot  tcr  die  fer  des  dat  little  luueh  ! 
Aif  Mos'  (irif,  he  doii"  care.  lie  luh  dat  little 
mucli  moiiev  uio  dan  wat  he  do  dl]  olj  us,  eount- 
iu'  ill  Mis'  Kate's  lul)  \\id  de  res"  I  " 

]Iis  wile  had  n'one  to  her  chair  and  A\-as  hold- 
ing'a  haiidkerchief  to  her  face,  lie  could  see 
her  lips  and  chin  tremhle. 

*•'  I  will  l)uv  .lohn,  Sallie,  if " 

Sallie  L;'i'asped  the  two  hands  aL;ain.  They 
A\'ere  relaxed  and  cold. 

*"  I  knowed  hit  I  I  knowed  hit  I  O  L;'ood,  kind 
Jesus  I  ()  Lord.  Saviour  I  dey  ain't  no //'.'  Dey 
ain't  no  if  I  My  .Mos'  (irif  g'wine  ter  do  hit. 
Dev  ain't  no  if  lef  in  dem  han's  I  My  ]Mos' 
(irif  g'wine  ter  huv  John  !  "  and  she  fell  on  her 
knees  again  and  sohhed  for  jov.  She  caught  the 
little  hlack  hahy  U})  from  the  floor  where  it  lay, 
laughing  and  kicking  its  toes  in  the  air,  and 
erushed  it  so  close  to  her  breast  that  it  cried  out 
and  tlien  set  up  a  ^-ail.  Sallie  stopped  Aveaving 
her  hody  to  and  fro,  and  tried  to  smile  through 
her  tears. 


.4.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATUIOT. 


"  Des  listen  tcr  tlat  fool  l)al)y  !  Hits  iT\iir  fo' 
des  a  little  liu't  like  dat,  aif  I  only  des  elioke 
hit  wif  my  anas  !  !Mos*  Orif  done  cliuke  my 
hawt  out  wid  grief,  an"  now  lie  done  stran;.,K' 
me  Avid  joy,  Lefo"  I  got  ter  cry,  eliile  !  Yoali 
po'  mammy's  liavrt  done  bus"  wide  open  wid  joy 
now.  l)at"s  what  make  I  ean't  talk  no  sense, 
j\I()s"  Giif.  I  des  wants  ter  yell.  But  Mis' 
Katlierine,  slie  know.  I  des  kin  see  dat  she  do. 
She  know  dat  I  feel  des  like  I  gwine  ter  bus' 
])lum'  down  tei'  \\\\  ehist.     She  know  !  "' 

She  laid  the  baby  down  again  and  suddeidy 
held  up  both  arms  toward  her  master.  Her  voice 
was  a  wail. 

"  Tell  me  dat  de}'  ain't  no  if  lef  in  your 
hawt,  jNIos"  Grif  I  I  knows  dat  dey  ain"t,  l)ut  I 
got  ter  heah  30'  mij  dat  dey  ain't,  an"  den  I  kin 
go  ! "' 

"  I  will  buy  John,  Sallie.  There  is  no  if,"  he 
said  ;  and  Katherine  threw  her  arms  around  his 
neck  and  looked  at  him  through  tears  of  joy. 

That  night  the  Rev.  Griffith  Davenport 
prayed  long  and  earnestly  that  he  might  be  for- 
given for  this  final  weakness.  He  felt  that  his 
moral  fiber  was  weakening.     He  had  broken  the 


AX  rXOFFiriAL  PATRIOT. 


VOW  taken  so  long  aq'o.  lit,-  tVlt  that  the  boiid.s 
Avere  tiyhtening-  almut  liiiii,  and  tliat  it  wonhl  Ije 
liai'dcr  than  ever  to  (dcMiisL'  Ids  sonl  from  wliat 
he  hatl  grown  to  feed  was  an  awfnl  wrong — this 
ownei'ship,  and  now  this  nioiR-y  pnrehase.  of  a 
luunan  souh 

'•I  liave  gone  the  wliole  length,'"  he 
siglied  to  Idnisidf.  ••  I  lia^'e  at  hist,  with  my 
eyes  dpen,  witli  iii}'  eonscieiiee  against  me,  done 
this  wrong  I  T  liave  paid  money  for  a  human 
l)eing.  I  know  it  is  a  Avroiig — 1  know — I  know, 
and  yet  I  liave  done  it  !  (iod  liLdp  me  I  God 
forgive  me  I  I  eannot  see  my  way  !  I  eannot 
see  my  ^vay  I  "" 

In  tlie  distance,  as  lie  arose  from  his  knees, 
there  lloated  in  througli  tlie  open  window  the 
refrain  from  Sallie's  song,  as  she  moved  about 
the  (|itarters : — 

An"  deys  no  mo"  troulilo.  an"  doys  no  mo"  pain, 
Ail"  deys  no  mo"  trouble  fo"  nic.  fo"  me  ! 

An'  deys  no  mo"  sorrci'.  an"  no  hid"  pain — 

Oil,  deys  no  mo"  troulile  fo"  nie,  f-o-li-li  m-e-e-e  ! 

I  libs  on  de  banks  ob  de  gdlden  slioali. 

Oh,  I  libs  in  de  promise"  Ian"  ! 
An'  I  sez  to  de  Lawd,  when  He  opens  the  doah, 

Dat  deys  no  mo"  trouble  fo'  me  ! 


.1.Y  UXOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


De  Lawd  lie  says,  when  he  took  my  hau\ 

"  Enter  into  de  gates  ob  res'  !  " 
An'  He  gib  me  a  harp,  an'  I  jines  de  ban', 

Fo'  deys  no  mo'  sorrer  fer  me  ! 

Lippy  Jane  was  dancing,  on  the  back  porch, 
to  the  rhythm  of  the  distant  song,  and  two  of  the 
bhick  boj^s  stopped  in  their  race  with  Beverly, 
over  the  hiwn,  to  take  up  tlie  chorus — ''  Oh, 
deys  no  mo'  troul)le  fo'  me,  f-o-h  m-e  !  " 

But,  in  spite  of  his  prayer  for  "  light  and 
leading,"  as  he  would  have  called  it,  Mr.  Daven- 
port felt  that  his  moral  fiber  was,  indeed,  weak- 
ening, and  yet  he  could  not  see  his  way  out  of 
the  dilemma.  He  had  definitely  decided  so 
long  ago  now  that  he  could  not  remember  when 
he  had  thought  otherwise,  that  for  one  in  his 
position,  at  least,  even  the  mere  ownership  of 
slaves  could  not  be  right.  He  recalled  that  it 
had  come  to  him  at  first  in  the  form  of  purchase 
and  sale,  and  it  had  seemed  to  him  that  under 
no  conditions  could  he  be  forced  into  that  form 
of  the  complication ;  but  a  little  later  on  he  de- 
cided that  the  mere  ownership  involved  moral 
turpitude  for  one  of  his  denomination,  at  least, 
if  he  was  in  deed  and  in  truth  following  the 
leaderhip  of  the  Christ. 


80 


AX  rxoFFiriAL  PATUIor. 


AVlieii  lii'st  111'  liad  nL;'i-ct'(l  to  lalce  part  of  liis 
fatliL'r"s  sl:i\-c>.  llici'cl'orr.  In'  liad  made  liimsidf 
feel  lliat  it  was  v\<j;]ii  lliat  lie  sliould  assume  a 
part  of  tlie  old  Major's  l)urdeirs  as  his  sou  and 
trustt'e,  oulv,  and  that  thei'e  A\'as  to  l)e  no  ti'aiis- 
fer  of  properly.  ddiat  tliis  ser\'iee  was  his 
father's  (hie  and  that  lie  should  give  it  freely 
seemeil  plain  to  him.  Katlu'rine's  slaves  lie  liad 
al\va\'s  thouglit  of  as  liers  alone — uot  at  all  as 
liis  :  l)Ut  ever  since  the  old  Major  had  died  and 
tlie  will  had  settled  heyond  a  (piiMde  that  tlie 
JJe\-.  (ii'iflith  l)a\'eiipoi't  vas  hinr^elf,  in  deed  and 
in  truth  ••  Mos'  (irif*  to  all  these  de})eudent 
creatures,  it  had  liorne  more  and  more  heavily 
upon  liis  eonseieiiee.  He  had  tried  to  think 
and  plan  some  wav  out  of  it  and  had  huled,  aud 
now  he  had  lieeu  forced  to  face  the  iinal  issue — 
the  one  phase  M'hich  he  had  felt  could  never 
touch  him, — the  [)Uieliase  hir  money  of  a  lilack 
uian.  and  he  had  yieldetl  at  the  hrst  test!  His 
lieart  liad  outweighed  his  head  and  his  con- 
science comhined,  aud  the  line  he  had  fixed  so 
long  ago  as  the  one  lioundary  of  this  evil  which 
//('  could  never  pass,  aud  which,  tliank  God,  uo 
one  else  could  thrust  upon  him,  was  obliterated, 


.4.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATIUOT.  81 

ami  lie  .stood  on  the  far  side  condemned  l)v  liis 

whole  nature  I     In  this  iniquity  irom  wliieh  he 

had  felt  his   hands   should  forever  Ije  free,  they 

were  steeped  !     He  felt  wounded  and  sore  and 

that  a  distinct  step  downward  had  been  taken, 

and  yet  he  asked  himself  over  and  over  agaiu 

what    he  could   have  done   in   the   matter  that 

would  not  have  l)eeu  far  worse.     He  slept  little. 

The  next  day  when  he  went  to  Mr.  Bradley  to 

buy  John  his  whole  frame  trembled  and  he  felt 

sick  and  weak. 

His  neighbor  noticed  that  he  was  pale,  and 

remarked  upon  it,  and  then  turned  tlie  subject 

to  the  matter  in   hand  which    Sallie  had  duly 

reported  an   hour   after  she  had   won  and  her 

master  had  lost  the  great  moral  contest.     For  it 

cannot  be   denied   that,   all   things   considered, 

Sallie  had  won  a  distinct  victory  for  the  future 

moral  life  of  herself  and  for  John  and  the  baby. 

So  complicated  are  our  relations  to  each  other 

and  to  what  we   are   [)leased  to  call  right  and 

wrong  in  this  heterogeneous  world,  that  in  doing 

this  Sallie  had  forced  her  master  into  a  position 

which  seemed  to  him  to  cancel  his  right  to  feel 

himself  a  man  of  honor  and  a  credit  to  the  re- 
6 


82  AX  UN  OFFICIAL  PATlUOr. 

ligion  ill  AAlii(;li  lie  believed  lie  had.  so  i'ai',  found 
all  his  lofliL'st  ideals.  He  could  plainly  see, 
now,  that  this  phase  of  the  terril)le  problem 
would  l)e  sure  to  arise  and  coid'ront  liini  again 
and  again  as  time  went  on,  and  liis  lirart  adiiMl 
when  lie  felt  that  he  liad  lost  liis  grasp  u[)on  tlie 
anelior  of  his  princi[)les  and  that  the  boundary 
lines  of  his  ethieal  integrity  were  again  becom- 
ing sadly  confused  in  a  mind  lie  liad  grown  to 
feel  had  long  ago  clearly  settled  and  delined 
them. 

"You  look  as  pale  as  a  ghost.  Better  try  a 
little  of  Maria's  l)lachl»erry  cordial  ?  Xo  ?  Do 
you  good,  I'm  sure,  if  you  would,"'  said  Mr. 
Bradley.  '"■  Yott're  taking  this  tiling  altogether 
too  much  to  heart,  sir.  What  possiljle  differ- 
ence can  it  make  to  John  whether  you  })ay  for 
him  or  whether  he  had  come  to  you  as  the  others 
did  ?  If  you  Avill  allow  me  to  say  so,  I  think 
it  is  a  ridiculous  distinction.  Somebody  paid 
for  the  ones  you've  got.  If  yottdl  allow  an  old 
neighbor  to  make  a  suggestion,  I  think  you  read 
those  Yankee  papers  altogether  too  much  and 
too  seriously.  It  perverts  your  judgment.  It's 
a  good  sight  easier  for  those  fellows  up  there  to 


AX  UNOFFICIAL  PATBIOT.  80 

settle  this  question  than  it  is  for  ns  to  do  it. 
Tliey  simply  don't  know  what  they  are  talking 
ahout,  and  we  do.  With  tliem  it's  all  theory. 
Plere  it's  a  cold  fact.  What  in  the  name  of 
common  sense  would  they  have  ?  Suppose  we 
didn't  own  and  provide  for  and  direct  all  these 
niggers,  what  on  earth  Avould  become  of  'em  ? 
Where  would  they  get  enough  to  eat  ?  You 
know  as  well  as  I  do  there  is  nothing  on  this 
earth  as  helpless  and  as  much  to  be  pitied  as  a 
free  nigger.  They  don't  kiiow  how  to  take  care 
of  themselves,  and  nobody  is  going  to  liire  one. 
What  in  thunder  do  people  want  us  to  do  ? 
Brain  'em?" 

"  Oh,  I  know,  I  know,"  said  ]Mr.  Davenport, 
helplessly,  looking  far  off  into  the  beautiful 
valley,  with  its  hazy  atmosphere  and  its  rich 
fields  of  grain.  ''  I've  thought  about  it  a 
thousand  times,  and  a  thousand  times  it  has 
baffled  me.  I'm  not  judging,  now,  for  you,  Mr. 
Bradley,  not  in  the  least.  I  feel  myself  too 
thorougldy  caught  in  the  meshes  of  our  social 
fabric  to  presume  to  unravel  it  for  other  people. 
But — but  in  my  position — for  myself — it  seems 
a  monstrously  wrong  thing  for  me  to  count  out 


84  A.\  rXOFFKIAL  I'ATinOT. 

this  nioiicy  and  j)ay  it  oN'er  for  Jolni,  just  as  if 
lie  wrix'  a.  lioisc.  Ii  jiiakt-s  iik'  feel  sirl^ — as  T 
fancy  a  criininal  iimst  fcrl  after  liis  lirsl  crime.'" 

Ml-.  IJradlcy  lan-]ic<l. 

'' V(»u  <Ioiri  ]iii»k  it.  Davciip(irt  I  T'liniinal  ! 
lla.  lia,  lia.  ]ia  .'   lliat's  ricli  \" 

(Jiil'lilli  iii()\c(l  uneasily  and  did  not  join  the 
lan^li  wliicli  slill  com  ulsed  his  neiL;hl)or. 

'•For  iiirii  is  wroni;- — -(UsiincUy,  al)solutely 
"wrong.  It  is  a  terrihlc  iliing  for  nie  to  say — 
and  still  do  it — I,  a  preacher  of  (iod  !  For  yon, 
I  cannot  judge.  •  Judge  not.  that  yc  l)e  not 
judged,'  is  \\liat  I  always  think  in  this 
matter.  lUit  for  me,  for  iiw  it  is  not  right — and 
yet  what  can  I  do  '!  " 

^Ir.  liradlc}'  laughed  again,  partly  in  amuse- 
ment and  })arlly  in  derision,  al  what  he  looked 
U[)on  as  the  preacher's  umvorldlv  view,  and 
^vhat  he  s[)oki!  of  Mith  vexation  to  others  as 
"  Daven})ort\s  damned  foolishness,"  winch  had, 
of  late,  grown  to  he  a  matter  of  real  unrest  to 
the  neighl)orhood,  in  whicli  it  was  felt  that  the 
influence  of  siudi  opinions  could  not  fail  to  Ije 
dangerous  to  social  older  and  staltility.  It  was 
as  if  you  or  I  were  t<»  f^pi'ing  the  t|uestion    of 


.l.Y  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


free  land  or  free  money  in  a  convention  of  land- 
lords and  l)ankers.  Or,  if  you  please,  like  the 
arguments  for  anarchy  or  no  government  ad- 
dressed to  the  "  Fourth  ward,"  or  the  members  of 
Cono-ress.  It  was,  in  short,  subversive  of  the 
established  order  of  things,  and  neither  you,  nor 
I,  nor  they,  acce[>t  quite  gracefully  such  proposi- 
tions, if  in  their  application  to  ourselves,  they 
would  be  a  sore  and  bitter  loss — if  it  would  render 
less  secure  and  lofty  our  seat  on  the  social  or 
political  throne.  We  revolt  and  we  blame  the 
disturber  of  the  old  established  order  of  things— 
the  order,  which  having  been  good  enough  for 
our  fathers  is  surely  good  enough  for  you  and 
for  me.  In  short,  was  not  the  way  in  religion 
and  in  social  order  of  our  fathers  far  the  better 
way  ?  Is  not  the  better  way  always  that  of  the 
man  who  owns  and  rides  in  the  carriage  ?  If 
you  will  ask  him — or  if  you  are  he — you  will 
learn  or  see  that  there  is  not  the  least  doubt  of 
the  fact.  If  you  should  happen  to  ask  the  man 
who  walks,  you  may  liear  another  story — if  the 
man  who  walks  happens  to  be  a  philosopher  ; 
but  as  all  pedestrians  are  not  philosophers  and 
since  acquiescence  is  au  easy  price  to  pay  foy 


sc.  AX  ryoFFK  i.iL  p.irnioT. 

peace,  it  may  liappeii  tliat  tlie  iviaii  in  tlie 
carriage  ^^■ill  ])v  eorrolxtraleil  by  the  wayfarer 
whom  liis  -wheels  liave  run  down. 

And  so.  my  friend,  in  the  year  18.')2,  liad  yi^u 
l)cen  sittinL;'  eonntiiic;'  ont  the  six  hnndi'ed 
dolhii's  -wliicli  mnst  eliange  liands  to  enable 
John  to  play  with  the  little  blaek  baby  on  his 
knee,  after  his  day's  woi'k  was  done,  and  to  keep 
Sallie  fi'om  the  pitifnl  fate  she  dreade<l,  it  is  to 
l)e  qnestioned  if  you  would  not  have  agreed 
with  Mr.  r>rad]ey  in  his  eovert  o[)inion  that 
"  l)a\'enp()rt's  s(jueamishness  was  all  damned 
nonsense,"  and  that  he  might  hir  better  st()p 
reading  those  Yaidcee  newspapers.  But  he  that 
as  it  may,  the  di-ed  was  done.  The  transfer 
was  made,  and  the  IJev.  (iril'lith  Davenport  rode 
liome  with  a  sad  heart  and  trouliled  eonseience. 
He  did  not  sing  nor  even  hum  his  favorite 
hymns  as  he  rode.  Ilis  usually  radiant  face 
was  a  study  in  perplexity.  When  he  })assecl 
the  cross-roads  he  did  not  whistle  to  the  robin 
who  always  answered  him. 

Selim's  successor  and  namesake  slackened 
liis  gait  and  wondered.  Then  he  jogged  on,  and 
when   he   stopped   at   the    borne   "  stile "  and 


^.V  VNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  87 

Griffith  still  sat  on  his  back,  apparently  oblivious 
of  the  fact  that  the  journey  was  at  an  end, 
Selim  whinnied  twice  before  the  responsive  pat 
fell  upon  his  glossy  neck. 

Jerry  ran  out.  "  Dinnah's  raidy.  Mos'  Grif. 
]\lis'  Kath'rine  she  Ijeen  a  waitin'  fob  yoh." 

The  rider  roused  himself  and  dismounted, 
more  like  an  old  man  than  like  his  cheery, 
jovial,  alert  self. 

"Is  that  so?  Is  it  dinner-time  already?" 
he  asked  absently.  '-  Feed  him,  but  don't  put 
liim  up.     I  may  want  him  again  after  dinner." 

"  You  ain't  sick,  is  you,  Mos"  Grif  ?  "' 

"  No,  no,  boy,  I'm  not  sick,''  he  said,  and 
then  recognizing  the  look  of  anxiety  on  the 
faithful  fellow's  face  :  "  What  made  you  ask 
that  ?  " 

"  Yoh  look  so  monst'ous  leraoncholly,  Mos' 
Grif.  Hit  ain't  seem  like  yo'se'f.  I  des 
fought  dey  mus'  be  somp'in  de  mattah  wid  yo' 
insides." 

]\Ir.  Davenport  laughed  and  snapped  the  rid- 
ing whip  at  the  boy.  Jerry  dodged  the  stroke, 
but  rubbed  the  place  where  it  was  supposed  to 
fall. 


AX  ry OFFICIAL  PATIHOT. 


'•  Lc'iuoiicliolly,  am  I  ?  Til  leirionclinlly  you, 
you  I'uscal,  if  you  don't  just  knork  oil"  and  g-o 
lishing-  this  afternoon.  I  slian't  need  you  ■\\'itli 
me." 

IFc  A\-as  half  way  to  tlie  hotise  when  he 
called  hack'  :  ••  nring  me  a  nice  mess  of  ti'out, 
l)0y,  and  \-(tu"ll  see  mv  insides.  as  3"ou  eall  *em, 
will    lie     all     riu'ht.      lt"s    trout    I    need.      Now 


mmd  . 

And  Jerry  was  comforted. 


.LV  UNOFFTCIAL   PATRIOT.  SO 


CHAPTER  A^r. 

WHAT    WOULD    YOU    HAVE    1)(  )XE  ? 

It  was  a  year  later  before  the  Rev.  Griffith 
Davenport  found  himself  in  a  position  to  earry 
out,  even  in  part,  a  long-eherished  plan  of  his. 
For  some  time  past,  he  had  l)een  strengthening 
himself  in  the  belief  that  in  the  long  run  he 
would  have  to  flee  from  the  problem  that  so 
perplexed  him.  That  he  would  have  to  make 
one  supreme  effort  which  should,  thereafter, 
shield  him  against  himself  and  against  temp- 
tation. This  determination  had  cost  him  the 
severest  struggle  of  his  life,  and  it  had  resulted 
in  the  rupture  of  several  lifelong  friendships 
and  in  strained  relations  with  his  own  and  his 
wife's  near  kinsmen.  It  had  divided  his  church 
and  made  ill-feeling  among  his  brother  clergy- 
men, for  it  liad  become  pretty  generally  known 
and  talked  about,  that  the  Rev.  Griffith  Daven- 
port had  definitely  determined  to  leave  his   old 


00  AX   rXOFFTCIAL  PATniOT. 

lionu'  and  taku  liis  sons  to  ^k-  L'<lucalc(l  ••  wli^Te 
tlu'  trrinl  of  tlioiiglit  is  towaid  fiXH'doiu  "  as  lie 
liad  ('X[)r('ssrd  it.  and  as  Lis  ludg'li'toi-s  wei'o  iOnd 
of  (jUotiiiL;'  d(•l■isi^■^l^".  He  liad  linally  st'cui'ed 
a.  posilion  ill  connect  ion  \\'ii]i  a  small  collco-e 
sonicw  lu'i'c  ill  Indiana,  to^cilicr  willi  an  a[)- 
pointniciit  as  ••  prc^idiiiL;'  elder""  in  the  district 
in  \\liich  tlic  (;oll('^-c  was  located.  He  liad 
arratin'ctl  for  the  sale  of  his  property,  and  he  \\'as 
alxiiit  to  leave. 

To  tliose  ^\'llose  traditions  of  atieestry  all  center 
alx)tit  one  locality,  it  costs  a  ferivfnl  strug'g'le  to 
tear  tip  root  and  lu'anch  and  strike  out  into 
unknown  llelds  among  }ie(»[)le  of  a  diiTereiit  type 
and  class  ;  v.ith  dissimilar  ideas  and  standai'ds 
of  action  and  belief.  To  such  it  is  almost  like 
the  threat  or  presence  of  death  in  the  house- 
hold. l^)irt  to  voluntarily  disru[it  and  leave 
behind  all  of  that  •\\liicli  has  given  color  and 
tone  ami  suhsianee  to  one's  daily  life,  and  at  its 
meridian,  to  begin  anew  the  weaving  of  another 
fal)ric  from  unaccustomed  threads  on  a  strange 
and  nnknoMii  loom,  to  readjust  one's  self  to  a 
different  civilization — all  this  re(ptires  a  heroism, 
a  fidelity  to  conscience  and,  withal,  a  confidence 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  91 

in  one's  own  judgment  and  l)eliefs  that  sur- 
pass the  normal  limit.  But,  if  in  addition  to 
all  this,  the  contemplated  change  is  to  he  made 
in  pursuance  of  a  moral  conviction  and  will 
surely  result  in  Ihiancial  loss  and  material 
discomfort,  it  would  not  he  the  part  of  wisdom 
to  ask  nor  to  expect  it  of  those  who  are  less 
than  heroic.  In  order  to  compass  his  plans  Mr. 
Davenport  knew  tliat  it  Avould  he  necessary  to 
dispose  of  his  slaves.     But  how  ? 

lie  hoped  to  take  with  him  to  his  new  home 
—although  the}'  Avould  be  freed  by  the  very 
act — several  of  the  older  ones  and  Jerry  and 
his  little  family.  He  knew  that  these  would, 
by  their  faitliful  services,  be  a  comfort  and  sup- 
port to  his  wife  and  of  infinite  use  and  advau- 
taofe  to  the  children,  whose  love  and  coiifidence 
they  had.  To  take  all  into  his  employ  in  the 
new  home  would,  of  course,  be  impossible.  He 
would  no  longer  have  the  estate  of  an  esquire. 
At  first,  at  least,  he  must  live  in  a  small  town. 
There  would  be  no  land  to  till  and  no  income 
to  so  support  them.  The  liouse  would  no 
longer  be  the  roomy  mansion  of  a  planter.  His 
income   would   be  too  meager  to   warrant  the 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATIUOr. 


keeping'  of  even  so  many  servants  as  tliey  were 
planning  to  take — and  tlieie  \\(inM  Ix'  little 
^\"()rk  for  tlieni  to  <lo.  The  others  ninst  l)e  dis- 
posed of  in  some  otiier  wav.  Hut  how?  They 
are  yonrs,  my  i'riend,  for  the  moment.  Ilow 
will  y(Ui  dispose  of  them?  What  wonld  you 
have  doTie  ? 

"  Free  them  and  leave  tlicn  in  the  state  ot" 
their  hii'lh  and  of  their  love  M'heie  theii'  friends 
and  k'insnien  are?""  Bnt  v<ui  eainiot  I  It  is 
against  the  la\\'  !  If  vou  free  tht;ni  you  must 
take  them  away.  Sell  them?  ( )f  eourse  not  ! 
givt'  them  to  youi'  wife"s  and  your  own  people  y 
Would  that  settle  or  only  pei'petuate  and  shift 
the  (piestion  h)r  M"hieh  vou  are  suffering  and 
saerilieing  so  nnieh  ?  ^Vnd  it  would  discriminate 
l)etween  those  you  take  and  thus  niake  free  ami 
those  you  leave  and  farther  lix  in  hondage,  and 
the  Kev.  Grifiith  Davenport  had  set  out  to  meet 
and  perform,  and  not  merely  to  shift  and  evade, 
what  he  had  grov\"n  to  look  U})On  as  his  duty 
to  himself  and  to  them.  It  was  this  which  had 
l)urdened  and  weighed  upon  him  all  these  last 
months,  nntil  at  last  lie  had  determined  to  meet 
it  in  the  onlv  way  that  seemed  to  settle  it  once 


^IJV  UNOFFICIAL  PATRKjT.  93 

and  for  all.  He  would  go.  lie  would  free  all 
of  tliein  and  take  lliem  with  him  into  the  state 
of  his  ado}»tion.  He  would  then  give  hired 
employment  to  those  he  needed  in  his  house- 
hold and  the  others  would  have  to  shift  for 
themselves.  This  lie  prepared  to  do.  Some  of 
them  Avould  not  want  to  go  into  a  homeless  and 
strange  new  land.  This  lie  also  knew.  Pete 
was,  as  the  negroes  phrased  it,  "settin'  u[)  to  " 
Col.  Phelps'  Tilly.  Pete  would,  therefore,  re- 
sist, and  wish  to  remain  in  Virginia.  Old  ]Milt 
and  his  wife  had  seven  children  who  were  the 
property  of  other  people  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  their  grandchildren  were  almost  countless. 
It  would  go  hard  with  jMilt  and  Phillis  to 
leave  all  these.  It  would  go  even  harder  with 
them  to  he  free — and  homeless.  Both  were 
old.  Neitlier  could  hope  to  be  self-supj^orting. 
My  friend,  have  3'ou  decided  what  to  do  ^\■it]l 
Milt  and  Phillis  ?  Add  Judy  and  ]\Iammy  and 
five  other  old  ones  to  your  list  when  you  have 
solved  the  prol^lem. 

INIr.  Bradley  had  spoken  to  Griffith  of  all 
these  things — of  the  hardships  to  both  black 
and    white — and    of    the    possible    outcome. 


04  AX  UXOFFICIAL  PATHIor. 


Over  ;iii(l  over  duriii'^'  llic  ve;ir.  wlieii  tlicy  li;ul 
talked  (if  til!'  pi'oposcd  lu.'W  iimvi,'.  lir  had  iirgL'd 
llicstj  points. 

"It  seL'ius  tit  inc.  Ml'.  I  );i  vrii|iort,  tliat  you 
art'  ;4'oiiiL;-  ti>  tackle  a.  pi'ettv  rtiiiL;'li  Jul).  Yoiisav 
VdU  will  t;dvc  all  of  tliciii  as  far  a>'  Wasliiiigtoii, 
aiiyliiiw.  Now  you  ou^lit  tn  know  that  there 
are  no  end  of  five  ni^'^'eis  in  A\'ashin^'ton, 
already,  with  no  \\-ay  to  suii[)ort  themselves. 
L(H.k  at  Mill  and  Phillis  nnd  Judy  and  Dan, 
and  thosi'  oiher  did  diirs  in  the  two  end  c-al)ins  ! 
They've  all  served  \<n\  and  yonr  ialher  before 
you  faithfully  all  of  their  hnes,  and  tiow  vmi 
are  |iro|)osiny  tn  turn  tlu/ni  ont  to  die — sinijilv 
to  starve  to  (le;ilh.  Thai's  the  U[)shot  of  ■\-our 
fiHtlishness.  "^  on  know  thev  won't  steal,  ami 
they  ean't  wcn-k  en(iUL;'h  to  s!i[i[i()rt  th.emselves. 
All  the  old  ones  itre  in  the  s;inie  tix,  and  the 
youny  ones  v.ill  sim.j)ly  l)e  |itit  on  the  ehain- 
<;'an;4'  for  petty  thefts  of  food  liefore  voti  -get 
fairly  settled  otit  west.  Lord.  Lord,  man,  vou 
don't  know  what  you  are  doiny  !  I  wish  the 
old  i\L;jor  Avas  here  to  pttt  a  ^top  to  it.  Ytm'i'e 
layiny  tip  sulTering-  for  yourself,  you're  laying- 
up  sorrow  and  crime  for  them,  you  are  robbing 


AX  UNOFFICIAL  PAT  RIOT.  95 

your  cliildrt'U  of  llieir  Ijirtliriglit,  and  of  what 
their  graiulfatliers  liave  done  for  tlieni,  ymi  ai'e 
making-  troulde  among  odier  })eo|)k'"s  niggers 
here  v:\\o  hear  of  it,  and  think  it  Avonkl  he  a 
fine  thing  to  he  a  free  nigger  in  AVa.sliingtou  or 
Indiana — and  Avhat  good  is  it  all  going  to  do? 
Just  answer  nic  that?  It  Avould  take  a  miero- 
scope  to  see  any  good  that  can  come  out  of  it. 
It's  easy  enough  to  see  the  harm.  Look  at 
'Squire  Xelson's  Jack  I  He  undertook  to  run 
off  last  "Week,  and  Xelson  had  him  whipped 
within  an  inch  of  his  life.  Yes,  had  policy, 
and  cruel,  of  course,  hut  that's  the  kind  of  a 
man  Xelsou  is.  Now  your  move  is  going  to 
stir  up  that  sort  of  thing  all  around  here.  It  does 
it  every  time.  You  know  that.  What  in  thunder 
has  got  into  the  heads  of  some  of  you  fellows,  I 
can't  see.  It  started  in  ahout  the  time  you 
Methodists  began  riding  around  here.  Sometimes 
I  think  they  Avere  sent  down  here  just  for  that 
purpose,  and  that  the  preaching  was  onl)-  a  hlind." 
Mr.  Davenport  laughed.  ''  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha  ! 
Bradley,  you  are  a  hopeless  case  !  If  I  didn't 
know  you  so  well,  I'd  feel  like  losing  my 
temper  ;  but " 


OG 


AX  ry OFFICIAL   I'ATIUOT. 


''()li.  I  (Inii'i  mean  you,  nf  cohi'sl'.  T  know 
j/oii  'j;()\  lo  l)clic\-inL;'  in  llu-  new  ruli^'ioii  a::il 
H'ol  It'll  on.  I  mean  lliosc  fellows  "wlio  canif 
(lowiL  licic  and  stai1i'(l  it  all  \\]K'n  voii  wci'u 
a  i^'ood,  scnsililr  lio\'.  .Knd  liow  do  tlicv 
q't't  llicii'  l'oolislinrs>,  anvlio\\"  ?  ^  our  ISiltlc 
teaclu's  tlic  r\'j;]\t  of  slaxciy  ]ilaiii  ciiou^li.  in 
all  conscience,  and  even  if  il  didii"t,  sla\'eiy 
is  liei'e  and  we  can"!  liel]i  oui'sehes;  and 
A\'liars  nioi'e  we  caiTl  liel[i  the  ni^'L^'ers  1 1 y  turii- 
iuL;'  some  of  "eia  loo-e  to  starve,  and  letting 
tliem  make  ti-oul»le  for  l)otli  the  mastei's  and 
the  slaves  that  aiv  left  behind.  I  just  tidl  you, 
]\Ir.  ])aven})ort,  it  is  a  1)!l;'  mistake  ami  you  are 
going  to  lind  it  out  befoi'c  you  are  done  with 
it." 

(i]illilh  had  gn^wu  so  used  to  these  talks  and 
to  those  of  a  less  kindl}'  tone  that  he  had 
stopped  arguing  the  matter  at  all.  and,  indeed, 
there  seenicd  little  he  could  say  beyond  the 
fact,  that  it  was  a  matter  of  conscience  Avith 
him.  !Iis  ^\ife"s  father  had  berated  liim 
soundly,  and  her  sisters  })lain]y  stated  that,  in 
tlieir  opinion,  '*  po(n-  Ih'other  Giif  was  in.sane."' 
They    pitied  their   sister    Katherine    from    the 


AJV  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  97 

bottom  of  tlieir  hearts,  and  tliaiiked  God 
devoutly  that  their  respective  liusl)an(ls  were 
not  simihul}'  al'lheted.  And,  as  may  l)e  reachly 
understood,  it  was  all  a  sore  trial  for  Katherine. 

At  last,  when  the  manumission  papers  came, 
Katherine  sent  LeRov,  her  second  son,  to  tell 
the  negroes  to  come  to  the  '^  hig-  house."' 

lioy  ran,  laughing  and  calling,  to  the  negro 
quarters.  "  Oh,  John,  Pete,  Sallie,  Uncle  ]\lilt 
everybody  !  Father  says  for  all  of  j'ou — every 
single  one — to  come  to  the  big  house  right 
after  supper !  Every  single  one !  He's  got 
something  for  you.  Something  he  is  going  to 
make  you  a  present  of !  I  can't  tell  you 
what — ouly  every  one  will  have  it— and  you 
must  come  right  away  after  supper  !  " 

"  G'way  fum  heah,  chile  !  What  he  gwine 
t'  gib  me?  New  yaller  dress?"  inquired 
Lippy  Jaue,  whereupon  there  arose  a  great  outcry 
from  the  rest,  mingled  with  laughter  and  gibes. 

"  I  know    wat   he    gwine  t'  gib  Lippy  Jane  ! 

lie  gwine  t'  gib  'er   a  swing  t*  hang   outer  dat 

lip,     yah !    yah  I    yah ! "   remarked    Pete,    and 

dodged  the  blow  that  his  victim  leveled  at  him. 

"  New   dress  I     Lawsy,  chile,  I  reckon  he  be 
7 


98  ^1^"  UNOFFiriAL  PATinOT. 

iiio'  likely  ter  ^-il)  you  a.  lickiir  aloiii;'  \'i'  dat 
jjlattcr  \(>n  done  l»u.^'  widout  ItdliiT  Mis' 
Ivate  I"  ])iit  in  Sallie.  whose  seeiii'e  plaee  in  the 
affert ions  of  the  mistress  rendered  her  a  seyere 
ci'itii'-  of  iiiannei's  and  morals  in   th(.'  '■  (juarters."' 

'•'Come  heah,  ?kIos'  IJoy,  hom/y,  an"  tell  ole 
rnc*  Alilt  wat  'e  gwine  t"  q'it.  AVat  dat  is  yat 
Mos"  (irif  ^wine  t'  ;_;'ih  me?  Some  mo"  'er  dat 
dai-  town  terhaeher  ?  l^aws  a  massy,  honev, 
dat  <lar  las"  pln^' what  he  foteh  nii;  nehl)er  las" 
]io  time  ertal."" 

!)Ul  Koy  ^\■as  lii'klinn'  the  ear  of  old  Phillis 
willi  a  feather  he  had  pieked  up  iVom  the 
grass,  and  the  old  -woman  was  noddinn'  and 
slapJ'in^■  at  the  side  of  her  head  an<l  hnmorinp;' 
the  hoy  in  the  delusion  that  she  thou^'ht  her 
tormeiitoi'  was  a  ily.  itoy"s  delight  was  un- 
l)ounded. 

''(Twayfum  heah,  Ily  I  Shoo  I  (Tway  fum 
lieali  I  1  lay  dat  I  inash  you  llat  "To"  a  nu(hler 
minnit !     Slio-o-o  I  "" 

IJoy  and  the  twins  w'e]'(3  eouyidsed  wilh  sup- 
presse(l  mirth,  and  Aunt  Phillis  slap[ted  the 
side  of  her  head  with  a  resounding  Avlaud-: 
■\vhieh  w"as   uot  only  a   mena('e   to   the  life  and 


.i:V^  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  99 

limb  of  the  aforenanied  iiisee't.  Imt  also.  Lid  fair 
to  deniolisli  lier  car  as  well.  One  of  tlie  twins 
undertook  to  su})plenient  the  proceeding-  on  the 
other  ear  wilh  a  blade  of  '^  fox  tail,"*  but  found 
himself  sjirawling  in  front  of  the  cabin  door. 
'■•  You  triflin'  little  nigger !  Don'  you  try 
none  'er  yoali  foolin'  wid  me  !  I  lay  I  break 
yoah  fool  neck  I  I  lay  T  do,"  exclaimed  the  old 
woman  in  vrrath.  Then  in  a  sportively  insist- 
ent tone,  as  she  banged  at  the  otlier  side  of 
her  head,  ''  Fore  de  good  Lawd  on  high  !  twixt 
dat  impei'cnt  little  nigger  an'  dis  heali  fly,  I 
lay  I'm  plum  -wore  out.     Sho-o-o,  fly  !  "' 

Suddenly  slie  swung  her  fat  body  about  on 
tlie  puncheon  stool  and  gave  a  tremendous  snort 
and  sna})ped  her  teeth  at  the  young  master. 
''  Lawsey  me,  hon.ey,  was  dat  yoh  all  dis  long 
cum  short?  Was  dat  yo"  teasin'  yoah  po'  ole 
Aunt  Phillis  wid  dat  fedder?  I  lay  I  gwine 
ter  ketch  yo"  yit,  an'  swaller  yo'  down  whole  I 
I  lay  I  is  !  " 

The  tin-eat  to  swallow  liim  down  whole 
always  gave  Roy  the  keenest  delight.  He  ran 
for  the  big  house,  laughing  and  waving  the 
feather  at  Phillis. 


100  AX   VNOFFICJAL  PATJUOT. 

Great  was  tlic  spccuLuiou  in  tlie  quarters  as 
t(i  Avliat  Wilis'  (irif  IkuI  for  cxcit  one. 

'■'' Hit's  (]t.'s"  hide  ( 'hi'is'iiius  I  "' 

"•  I  des  wislii  I  kiiow'tMl  wat  T  gwiiie  t'  git."' 

"•^  Lawsev  nie.  but  1  wislit  Iiil  ^\■as  arter  su[)[)er 
now  I '" 

111  llie  twiliglit  tlicv  canii'  swaying  iij)  llirougli 
tlu'  grass — a  long  irregular  line  of  llicin.  'K'ny 
liad  his  banjo.  Maininw  Sallic's  ohl  mother, 
carried  in  her  arms  the  A\hite  l)aby.  Little 
Margaret,  was  lier  sole  eare  and  eliarge  and  no 
more  devoted  lovei's  existed. 

""Kt  me  Avide  piggv  baek,  mammy,"*  plead 
the  child. 

*■'  lleali,  .Terrv,  put  dis  heali  elul(>  on  my  back  I 
I>e  mons'ous  keerful  dar  now  I  Don"  yoli  let 
dat  chile  fall!  Dar  yoli  is.  honey  I  Dar  yoli 
is  !  IIol"  tight,  now  I  Hug  yoali  ole  mammy 
tight  I     D-a-t-s  de  way. 

"  '  Go  down.  Mosos,  away  down  in  Eij;ypt's  Ian". 
Go  tell  ole  riiaroah,  t'  Id  my  people  go.'  " 

Clammy  l)egan  to  ti'ot  ai^.d  hum  the  tune  for 
the  child.  The  swaying  rhythm  caught  like  a 
sudden  fire  in  a  field  of  ripened  grain.     Every 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  101 

voice,  old  and  young',  fell  into  liarmon}',  and 
Jeriy's  Ikuijo  l)eat  its  tuneful  way  like  the  ri[)[)le 
of  a  stream  throug'li  it  all. 

]Mi's.  Davenport  stood  l)y  the  window  Avateh- 
ing  them  as  they  came  nearer  and  nearer.  Her 
face  was  sad  and  troubled.  She  looked  up  into 
the  clear  twilight  and  saw  one  star  peer  out. 
She  did  not  know  why,  but  in  some  mysterious 
Avay  it  seemed  to  comfort  her.  She  smiled 
through  dim  eyes  at  the  child  on  mammy's 
back.  Her  husband  still  sat  by  the  table  sort- 
ing over  some  legal-looking  papers. 

"Are  those  the  manumission  papers,  father?" 
asked  Beverly,  taking  one  up  and  turning  it 
curiously. 

"  Yes." 

Beverly  glanced  at  his  father.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  the  lines  in  his  face  were  very  sad. 
The  merry  twinkle  that  always  hid  in  the  cor- 
ners of  eyes  and  mouth  ^v^ere  obliterated.  There 
was  a  settled  look  of  anxiety.  He  seemed  older. 
Beverly  was  silent.  He  more  nearly  understood 
what  his  father  was  doing  than  did  even 
Katherine.  Presently  he  said :  "  Hear  them 
sing!" 


lOli 


AX  UNOFFICIAL  FATIUOT. 


]\Ii'.  Davenport  was  starinn-  strai^lit  Lefore 
liiin  into  s})a('e.     lie  tui'iic(]  \n  lisicii. 

'•  IIup[)_v,  rarclrss.  i]i()u;_;liilcss,  unfortunate 
ereatures,"  lie  said  softly,  "and  as  free  as  you  or 
I,  tins  minute — as  free  as  vou  or  I  —  if  only  tliev 
kiu'W  it:""  then  suddenly — ••  Xo.  not  that,  either. 
'riie\"  can  never  he  /Ji'/l  so  Ioiil;'  as  thev  may  not 
stay  here  free.  e\'cn  if  they  want  to.  T  suppose 
I  a,m  hrcakiny  the  law  to  tell  them  what  I  shall 
to-ni^'ht,  hut  I  c(ni't  tahc  tluan  away  from  theii' 
old  home  and  friends  and  liot  tell  them  it  is  for 
q'ood  aiid  all — that  thev  ma\'  not  come  hack. 
Im)1'  o()(,(1  and  all — foi'  ^'ood  and  all,""  he  re- 
peated, ahstractedly.  After  a  long-  pause  he 
said,  ''  Law  or  no  la^^^  I  cania>t  do  that.  I  must 
tell  tliem  they  are  free  hi'forc  they  go — and  that 
they  must  say  g'ooddive,  never  to  come  l)ack." 

'•*  Seems  pretty  hard,  doesn't  it,  father?  But 
then — hut — don't  3'ou  think  (Jod  was  pretty 
Jiard  on  them  when  lie — when  He  made  tliem 
hlaek  ?  Jerry  is  a  gentleman,  if — if  he  was 
not  l)lack." 

"  CTriflith,""  asked  Katherine  from  the  window, 
''•how  do  you  suppose  they  will  take  it?  Fm 
afi-aid " 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  103 


"Take  it!  take  it!  Why,  little  woman,  liow 
would  }'ou  or  I  take  freedom  if  it  were  given  to 
us  ?  "'  The  thought  cheered  him  and  he  crossed 
ihe  room  and  tapped  her  cheek  Avith  the  papers. 
His  face  beamed.  ''  Fm  prepared  to  see  the 
wildest  outbreak  of  jo}'."  He  chuckled,  and 
some  of  the  old  lines  of  mirtli  came  back  to  his 
face.  "  Fm  glad  Jerry  brought  his  banjo.  They 
will  be  in  a  humor  for  some  of  the  rollicking 
songs  afterward.  I  think  tliey  would  do  me 
good  too.  And  you,  you,  little  woman,  you 
will  need  it  too.  You  have  been  brave — 3-0U 
have  beeu  my  tower  of  great  strength  iu  all  this. 
If  lion  had  contested  it,  Fm  afraid  my  strength 
would  liave  given  out,  after  all."  He  put  his 
arm  around  her.  '-But  God  knows  what  we 
can  stand,  Katherine,  and  he  tempers  the  trial 
to  our  strength.  Thank  God  it  is  over — the 
worst  of  it,"'  he   said,  and  drew  her  to  him. 

Suddenly  this  silent,  self-controlled  Avomau 
threw  both  arms  about  his  neck  and  sobbed 
aloud.  "  God  help  us  to  bear  it,  Grifiith. 
Sometimes  I  think  I  cannot !  It  is  hard !  It 
is  hard !  " 

He  stroked  her  hair  silently. 


104  AX  UXOFFTf'IAL  P  ATE  TOT. 

"  JNIos'  (irif.  does  voli  want  us  to  come  in 
er  t'  sta_v  on  de  l)ig'  po'ch?'"  It  was  Jerry's 
voice.  *■' Good-el)nin".  Mis'  KatlTrine  !  I  liope 
yoh  is  nionst'ons  well  dis  ebenin".  Tlianky, 
ma'am,  yes'm,  I'm  middlin"."" 

]\Irs.  Davenport  drew  licrsulf  farther  into  the 
sliadow,  lint  she  heai'd  the  little  groan  that 
escaped  her  hushand.  She  understoo(L  Her 
own  voice  was  as  steady  as  if  no  storm  liad 
passed. 

•'•  (^pcn  these  larye  windows  on  to  the  porcli, 
Jerry,  and  your  }\lo:^'  (irif  will  talk  to  von 
from  here.  .Tust  keep  them  all  outside.  I 
liked  your  song's.  When  AIos'  Chif  is  done  with 
you  all.  sine;'  some  moi-e — sin^'  that  one  he  likes 
so  well — the  one  ahont  'Fun  in  de  Cabin."*' 

"To  he  sho'.  Mis'  Kath'rinc,  to  he  she'. 
Dat  I  will.  AVhat  <lat  INIos'  Clrif  gwine  ter  gib 
us?  Milt  he  'low  dat  hit's  terbacker,  an' 
Lippv  Jane  she  "low  dat  hit's  calicker,  an'  John 
he  "low  dat " 

With  the  opening  of  the  low  windows  a  great 
wave  of  '••  howd^-s  "  arose  and  a  cloud  of  black 
faces  clustered  close  to  the  open  sjiaces.  The 
moon  was  rising  behind  them  and  the  lamp  ou 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  105 


the  table  witliin  gave  l)ut  a  feeble  effort  to  lival 
the  mellow  light  outside.  The  master  was 
slow  to  begin,  but,  at  last,  when  the  greetings 
were  over  he  said,  with  an  effort  to  seem 
indifferent,  "  You  all  know  that  we  are  o-oino- 
away   from  l>ere   and   that  3-ou  are  going,  too  ; 

but ""     He  found   the  task  harder  than   he 

had  expected.  His  voice  trembled  and  he  was 
glad  that  Katherine  put  lier  hand  on  his  arm. 
He  shifted  his  position  and  began  again.  '^You 
have  all  heard  of  freedom."  He  was  looking 
at  them,  and  the  faces  were  so  blandly,  blankly 
vacant  of  that  which  he  was  groping  for  —  they 
Avere  so  evidently  expecting  a  gift  of  tobacco, 
or  its  like — that  lie  omitted  all  he  had  thought 
of  to  say  of  thei]'  new  freedom  and  what  it 
could  mean  for  them,  and  what  it  had  meant 
for  him  to  secure  it  for  them,  and  at  once  held 
up  the  folded  papers.  "  These  are  legal  papers. 
They  are  all  registered  at  a  court-house.  I 
have  one  for  each  one  of  you.  These  papers 
set  you  free !     Thej^  are   manumission    papers, 

and  you  are  all  to  be  free  !  free -" 

The  silence  was  unbroken  except  for  a  slight 
shuffling   of  feet,  but  the    dire    disappointment 


106 


.LY    rXOFFiriAL   PATUIOT. 


was  (lt'[»iote<l  on  eviTv  face,  lliat  was  too 
plain  to  l»c  iiiislal-ct.'U.  (  )iily  })apeis  I  Xo 
tohaccdl  No  ralico  I  X(»i!iiii'_;'  to  cat!  Tlie 
silence  i^Tew  uiicoiiifoilablc.  Tlicv  were  wait- 
iiiL;-  i'or  soiiictliiii^'  I'oi-  \\liicli  tlic\-  could  yive 
out  the  ••  tliaiilvv,  ^^los"  (irif,  tliaiiky.  sir,  I's 
iniL;litv  iiiiicli  "lJec;_;-e(I  t"  yoii,  I  is  dat  I  "'  in 
llieii'  own  lu'ai'tv  and  liajijiy  way. 

(iriliilli  found  liin!.>cir  Iiauul;-  to  cx[ilain  wliat 
tliese  pajici's  rc_-aHv  \\'ere.  lie  cliaiice(l  to  o})eu 
.)ud\'"s  lirst.  lie  \vould  make  an  ol)iect  lesson 
of  it.  v'^lie  liad  Lecu  Ids  nurse,  and  was  toi)  old 
and  rlii-uniati''  to  woik  e>:ce]it  as  tlie  spirit  of 
()c(Ui]ialion  ur^'cd  \\vv  to  some  triiliny'  task, 
(iriftitli  \\'as  reading-  the  paoei'  and  explaining 
as  lie  went.  The  negroes  looki'd  from  the 
mastei'  to  Judy  and  l)ack  again  until  he  ^^"as 
done.  She  \^'alked(.  lamely  to  his  side  when  lie 
had  linislied  and  v,as  holding  hci' freedom  papers 
toward  hci'.  She  held  out  her  hand  forit.  Then 
she  tore  it  thi'ough  twice  and  tossed  it  otit  of 
the  \\indow.  Her  eyes  Hashed  and  she  held 
herself  erect. 

"What  T  want  wid  yoah  oh-  manuermussent 
papers?     "What  I    want   wid  *em,   hey?"     She 


^.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  lUl 

folded  lier  arms.  ^' 3Ie  a  free  nigger!  Me! 
jNIus"  Grif,  yoli  ain't  neljber  gwine  ter  lib  t'  be 
ole  enough  t'  make  no  free  nigger  out  ob  ole 
Judy !  What  I  fotcb  yoh  up  foil  ?  Didn't  I 
nus  yoli  fnm  de  time  yoh  was  a  teenchy  little 
baby,  an'  wasn't  ole  ~S[is  and  j-oah  paw  sas'fied 
wid  me?  "What  I  done  t'  yoh  now?  Wliat  fo' 
is  yoh  gwine  ter  tun  me  loose  dat  a  way  ? 
Mannermussent  papers  I "  she  exclaimed,  in  a 
tone  of  contemptuous  Avrath,  ''  mannermussent 
papers  !  Yoh  can't  mannermussent  yoah  ole 
Aunt  Judy  !     Dej'S  life    lef  in  her  yit  ! " 

It  was  done  so  suddenly.  The  reception  of 
freedom  was  so  utterly  unexpected — so  opposed 
to  what  he  had  fondly  hoped — -tliat  Griffith 
stood  amazed.  Katherine  motioned  to  mammy, 
who  still  stood  with  the  Avhite  baby  in  her 
arms.  ''  Give  me  the  baby,  mammy.  I 
will " 

"  Mis'  Kate,"  said  the  old  woman,  turning,  as 
she  pushed  her  way  through  tlie  room,  "  Mis' 
Kate,  do-  Mos'  Grif  mean  dat  yo'  alls  is  gwine 
ter  Icahe  us  ?  Do  lie  mean  dat  ire  alls  is  got  ter 
be  free  niggers,  wid  no  fambly  an'  no  big  house 
au'  no  baby  t'  nus  ?  " 


108  .1-V  rx OFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


Slu'  cliauged  the  cliild's  ^(ositioii,  and  llie  liule 
soft,  AN'liite  cliL'fk  lay  eontenK'dly  against  tliu 
blacl-:  one. 

''  "Cause,  if  <J((/'s  wat  I\I(>s'  Grif  mean,  dis 
lieali  chile  nh  yoahs  an'  nle  niamniy,  deys  gwine 
t'  stay  togeddfi'.  Dis  lieali  niannny  don't  el)en 
ti-fch  no  ole  nianiii'niiussent  papers  I  Tar  hit  up 
yo'se'l'.  ^lis"  Ivati.',  kase  dis  lieah  nigger  ain't 
el)en  gwine  t'  tetrji  hit.  Slie's  des  gwine  ter 
put  dis  l)ahy  ter  bed  lak  slie  alius  ilone.  (Jood- 
night,  Mis'  Kale!      (iood-niglit.  Mos'  (Jrif  I" 

Slic  was  hali'-way  u[)  the  stairs,  when  she 
tuined. 

'' Mi.s'  Kate,  sunipin"  er  a-rmdder  done  gone 
wrong  Avid  Mos'(irit"s  haid.  Slio'  as  yoh  Ijawn, 
honey,  dat's  a  lark  I  I  wisht  yoh  send  fo"  yoh 
paw.  r  does  dat  !  "  and  slie  ^vaddled  u[)  tlie 
stairs,  \\h\i  the  sleeping  child  lield  elose  to  lier 
faithful  heart. 

The  reeeption  of  the  freedom  papers  In'  the 
others  vaiied  with  temperament  and  age.  Two 
or  three  o(  the  younger  ones  reaelied  in  over 
the  heads  of  those  in  front  of  them  when  their 
names  Avere  called,  and,  holding  tlie  papers  in 
tlieir  hands,  ^  cut  a-  pigeon-wing  "   in  the  moon- 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATEIOT.  100 

lii^-lit.  One  or  two  looked  at  their.s  iu  .stupid, 
silent  wonder.  Jei'iy  and  his  wife  gazed  at  the 
twins,  and,  in  a  half-dazed,  half-shaniefaced  way, 
took  theirs.  Jerry  took  all  four  to  Katherine, 
"  Keep  deni  fo'  nie,  please,  ma'am,  ]\Iis'  Katli'- 
rine,  kase  I  ain't  got  no  good  place  fer  ter  hide 
"em.  j\Iel)by  dem  dare  ehillun  gwine  ter  want 
"em  one  er  dese  here  days."'    ■ 

Not  one  grasped  the  full  meaning  of  it  all.  It 
Avas  evident  that  one  and  all  expected  to  live 
along  as  before — to  follow  the  fortunes  of  the 
family. 

'•'  ThaPxky,  ?\Ios'  Clrif,  ]nuch  "bleeged.""  said  old 
^lilt,  as  he  took  his,  '"  l)ut  Yd  a  heap  site  a-rud- 
der  had  some  mo'  ob  dat  toA\n  terbacker — I 
would  dat,  honey." 

"  Give  it  U[)  for  to-night,  Griffith,""  said  his 
\A'ife,  gently,  as  he  still  stood  hel[)lessly  tryino- 
to  explain  again  and  again.  "  You  look  so 
white,  and  I  am  very  tired.  (Jive  it  up  for  to- 
night. It  will  be  easier  after  they  have  talked 
it  over  together,  perhaps — ly  davliglit." 

She  pushed  him  gently  into  a  chair  and  mo- 
tioned to  Jerry  to  take  them  all  away.  The  faith- 
ful fellow  remembered,  when  outside,  that  she 


IIU  AN  UyoFFWIAL  PATRIOT. 

luul  asked  liiiii  to  sini;',  but  the  ineny  song  .she 
had  named  had  no  echo  in  the  hearts  al)oiU  him. 
.\11  understood  that  they  had  failed  to  res}»ond 
to  something  that  tlic  nia>ter  had  expected.  The 
strings  of  liis  l.)anjo  I'ang  out  in  a  few  minor 
eliords,  and  as  tlicy  nioNcd  to\\ard  the  quarters 
an  old  forgotten  melody  lloaled  Ijaeh  — 

O,  (le  shaddi'i-s  am  a  (li'i'|i'iiiii"  (in  dr  mountains, 
(),  dc  shaddiTs  am  a  dccp'nin'  on  di'  .stream, 

An'  I  Ihink  1  li-'ar  an  ccIki  f'lim  dc  valley, 
An  e(di(>  nh  dc  days  oh  wlurh  1  dream  ! 

(.)le  liapi>y  days  !     ( »lc  happy  days  ! 
Befo'  I  knew  dat  sorinw  eouM  be  hawn. 

WIk'U  I  played  wid  nms'iT's  ehillun  in  de  medder, 
"WliiMi  my  wuk  was  dmic  adiocin"  oli  de  eawn  1 

Dose  happy,  happy  days  \     Di.se  happy,  happy  days  ! 
Dey'll  come  again  no  mo',  no-o-o  m-o-r-e,  uo  more  ! 

Ole  mos"er  is  a-sleepin"  "neath  de  willuw  ! 

An"  di'  apple  blossoms"  fallin"  im  de  lawn. 
Where  he  used  to  sit  an"  doze  lieneath  its  shadder, 

In  de  days  when  I  was  hoein'  oh  de  cawn  ! 

Ole  happy,  etc. 

Dey"ll  come  no  mo"  dis  side  de  riblier  Jordan, 
O,  (ley' 11  come  no  mo"  dis  side  de  golden  shoali  ! 

Foil  de  eliillun"s  growed  so  big  dat  deys  forgot  me, 
Kase  I"se  ole  an"  cannot  wuk  foh  dem  no  mo'  ! 

Ole  happy,  etc. 


l.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  lH 


CHAPTER  Vm. 


OUT   OF    BOXDAGE. 


"  Look  down.  Say  notliin'.  Few  words  com- 
prehends the  whole." 

The  long,  lank  mountaineer  stood  leaning  on 
his  gnn  and  looking  listlessl}'  at  the  collection 
of  bundles,  bags,  children,  dogs,  guns,  banjos, 
and  other  belongings  of  the  Davenport  negroes, 
as  they  waited  about  the  wagons,  now  nearly 
ready  to  start  for  "  Washington  and  the  free 
States  " — that  Mecca  of  the  colored  race.  It  is 
true  that  Lengthy  Patterson  disapproved  of  the 
entire  proceeding,  notwithstanding  his  profound 
respect  for,  and  blind  admiration  of,  Parson 
Davenport,  as  he  always  called  Griffith ;  but  he 
had  tramped  many  miles  to  witness  tlie  depart- 
ure, which  had  been  heralded  far  and  wide. 
Lengthy's  companion,  known  to  his  familiars  as 
"  Whis  "  Biggs,  slowly  stroked  the  voluminous 
hirsute  adornment  to  which  he  was  indebted  for 


n-2 


AX  rXOFFlCIAL  PATlHOr. 


liis  iiaiiu/,  ••  Whislvci's  ■"  Itijiiiq'  iLe  oiig-inal  ol'  the 
al)l)rcviati(»n  -wliirli  was  iiowliis  sole  designation 
— Wilis  strnked  liis  Ijeard  and  ali^tiaeledly 
kiekeil  a.  stray  dog,  A\'!iir]i  ]-an,  liowding,  under 
tlie  nearest  wagon. 

'•  Hit  do  a[)})(_'ar  t"  nie  tliat  the  Pahrsou  air  a 
leeth'  teelied  in  tlie  hai(h"" 

There  was  a  hmg  pause.  Tlie  negroes  h)oked. 
as  they  alw.iys  did,  at  these  niounlaineers  in 
eonteni[it. 

I^'iigthN'  dove  into  a  ea[>aeious  |)()(dcet  and 
]ii-o(bu'ed  a:  Lii'ge  home-twisted  liand  of  toliaeeo 
and  ])asse(l  it  in  sih'Uee  to  Ids  eoni|)aiii()ii,  ^v]lo 
gna\\'ed  olT  a  t'onsiderahle  seel  ion  and  in  silence 
returned  it  to  the  o\vner. 

"' l^(.'t"s  seu"*  he  rt'niarhed.  a.nd  double(l  Jiini- 
self  down  o!i  a  log.  J^englliy  took'  the  seat  Ije- 
side  Idni,  and  gatliered  lijs  ever-present  gun 
het\^'een  his  hmg  legs  and  gazed  into  space. 
^Ii'.  rdggs  stroked  his  Ijeard  and  renia.iued 
})lunged  in  dee'p  thought.  Idiat  is  to  say,  he 
was  evidently  luider  the  impression  that  he  was 
thinking,  aloeit  skeptics  had  been  known  to 
point  to  the  dea-rtli  of  results  in  his  eonversa- 
tion,  and  to  intimate  that  nature   had   designed 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  113 

ill  liiiu  not  !?o  niucli  a  ihinker  as  an  able-bodied 
rack  upon  Avliicli  to  .sus[)end  a  luxuriant  growth 
of  beard.  He  Avas  known  far  and  wide  as 
"Wilis''  Biggs;  and,  if  there  Avas  Avitliin  or 
without  his  anatomy  anything  more  im[)ortant, 
or  half  so  mueh  in  eyidence  as  was  his  tremen- 
dous achievement  in  facial  adornment  (if  such 
an  appendage  may  be  called  an  adornment  by 
those  not  belonging  to  a  reyerted  type),  no  one 
had  eyer  discoyered  the  fact.  "What  there  was 
of  him,  of  yalue,  appeared  to  haye  run  to  hair. 
The  rest  of  him  was  occupied  in  proudlj-  dis- 
playing the  fact.  lie  stroked  his  beard  and 
looked  wise,  or  he  stroked  his  Ijeard  and 
laughed,  or  he  stroked  his  beard  and  assumed  a 
solemn  air,  as  occasion,  in  his  judgment,  ap- 
peared to  require  ;  but  the  occasion  always 
required  him  to  stroke  his  beard,  no  matter 
what  else  might  happen  to  man  or  to  beast. 

But  at  last  the  wagons  pulled  out.  Amidst 
shouts  and  "  Wlioas  ! "'  and  "  Gees  !  ''  and 
"  G'lano-s  ! "  Amidst  tears  and  laughter  and 
admonitions  from  those  who  went,  and  those 
who  were  left  behind,  the  strange  and  un- 
accustomed procession  took   its   course    toward 


114  ^l-V  Uy OFFICIAL  PATIUOT. 


the  setting  sun.  The  family  drove,  in  the 
okl  DavL'np(.)rl  l)aroucla'.  far  enr)nyh  lichind  to 
avoid  the  dust  i>f  tlie  wagons.  Tlie  long  journev 
was  begun  for  master  and  for  freedmen.  Each 
was  launehed  on  an  unknown  sea.  Eaeh  Avas 
tilled  with  apprehension  and  M'ith  hope.  Old 
friends  and  relatives  had  gathei'ecl  to  witness 
the  departure,  some  to  l)lame.  some  to  deprecate, 
and  all  to  deplore  the  final  leave-taking. 
Comments  on  the  vanishing  pi'oeession  were 
varied  and  numei'ous.  Tlie  two  mountaineers 
listened  in  silence,  the  one  stroking  liis  l)eard, 
the  other  holding  his  gun.  Some  thought  the 
preacher  undoul)tedly  insane,  some  thought  him 
merely  a  dangertnis  fanatic,  some  said  he  was 
only  a  })lain,  unvarnished  fool  ;  s()me  insisted 
that  since  he  had  gone  counter  to  pnljlic  opinion 
and  the  law  of  the  state,  he  vras  a  criminal:  while 
a  semi-silent  few  sighed  and  wished  for  the 
courage  and  the  ability  to  follov  a  like  course. 
The  lirst  hours  of  the  j(jurney  wvvt'  uneventful. 
There  was  a  gloom  on  all  hearts,  which  insured 
silence.  Each  felt  that  he  was  looking  for  the 
last  time  upon  the  valley  of  their  love.  Jerry 
drove  the  family  carriage.     As  they  paused  to 


^.V  Uy  OFFICIAL  PATE  TOT.  115 

lower  the  check-reins  at  the  mill  stream, 
Katherino  bent  siiddenh"  forward  and  shaded  her 
eyes  with  her  hands.  ''Griffith  I  Griffith  I 
there  goes  Pete  l^ack  over  the  fields  I  I'm  sure 
it  is  Pete.  No  otlier  negro  has  that  walk — that 
lope.  See  !  He  looked  back  I  He  is  running  ! 
I  know  it  is  Pete  ! " 

^Iv.  Davenport  sprang  from  the  carriage  and 
shouted  to  the  fleeing  man.  He  placed  his 
hands  to  the  sides  of  his  face  and  shouted  again 
and  again. 

'•  Shell  I  run  foh"  *im,  :\Ios'  Grif  ?  ''  asked 
Jerrj'  passing  the  lines  to  his  mistress.  ''  I  lay 
I  kin  ketch  'im  'n  I'll  fetch  '  im  back,  too,  fo' 
he  gits  to  de  cross-roads  !  " 

He  grasped  the  carriage  whip  and  prepared  to 
start.  The  shouts  had  served  to  redouble  Pete's 
speed. 

"  He  was  your  negro,  Katherine,  shall  I  let 
him  go?  "  Griffith  said  in  a  tired  voice. 

"  Yes,  yes,  oh,  Griffith,  let  him  stay  in  Vir- 
ginia if  he  wants  to.  We  can't  have  him  with 
us — why,  why  not  let  him  stay  here  ?  " 

Griffith  sighed.  His  Avife  knew  quite  well 
why ;  but  she  \ras  nervous  and  overwrought  and 


.l.Y   rXOFFfCIAL   PATRIOT. 


t\'ari'(l  resis(a;ict!  sIiduLI  IV'te  l)c  l)r(inL;'lit  to 
bay — iiiiL;-lit  li"  i:(>t  li^lit  fcr  liis  fix'cdoni  {o 
iTinaiii    \\lii_'r('  la'  i;u'.;'!it  //"/   ])o  fn-c  ! 

'V\\L'  wa'^'ons  ]ia:l  all  sIojijxmI.  (  )iio  of  lla^ 
twins.  Avitli  a -lifU  I'ai-c.  raiiic  ruiiniii',;-  liaclc  lo 
]'('[i(>i-t  l\'!i'"s  cscanc.      -'.Mos"    (irif,    ( )li,  L;)r(ly. 

MosMirir:    ret.' iic"s  i-iui  (,!'f:    ret,. — •• 

It  was  ].laiii  lo  It  •  simmi  llait  tin'  iic^tocs  were 
restless  ami  ('\'[i('ctaiit.  Tlii'  tone  a'.al  alinos- 
})lii'!-e  of  iiiicertaiiiU-  aiiioiiL;"  tlietn,  tlie  t>'arful 
eyes  of  sonic,  aii'l  the  suUt'ii  srowl  oL'  olhers 
(|iiickly  (leeidiMl  Mr.  Dax't'iipiur.  It  M'as  no 
time  lof  indecision.  Pronipt  action  alone 
M'onld  prevent  a  panic  ainl  a  stampede. 
Katlierine  spoke  a  W'W  liastv  \\'oi-ds  t()  liin;  as  ju' 
leaned  on  tlie  earria',;'e-doiii'.  JIc  sprang'  In. 
"(ioon  I"  li  '  sliouteil.  ••(lo  Oil  !  A\"('  can't 
all  sto[)  nou'.  We  must  ero.^s  tlie  ferrv  to- 
in^'lit  I ""  Tlicu  as  a  [ii'eeivution  lie  said  to  the 
twin:  "CaeU  up  and  tell  Jndy  tint  "S(piire 
Nelson  will  L;'et  Pete  if   Lo   tries    to  stay   here."' 

'  S(piire  Xelson,  the  terrible  !  "  S(piire  Xel- 
■son  I  who  had  called  l)cfore  him  a  runawav  hov 
and  ca.lnilv  shot  him  thron.yh  the  leg'  as  an  ex- 
ivitiple   to  his  fellows,  and  (lien  sent  liim.   to  the 


.I.Y   UX OFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  117 


quarters  to  repent  his  rasli  act — and  iiieidentally 
to  act  as  a  warning"!  "S(|uire  Xelson  I  Did 
tlie  niaimniission  papers  give  those  wlio  stayed 
behind  to  'Squire  Xelson  ?  The  negroes  h)()ked 
into  each  otlier's  faces  in  silent  fear,  and  drove 
rapidly  on. 

An  liour  later,  as  they  were  looking-  at  the 
glorious  sunset,  and  Griffith  was  struggling  to 
be  his  old  cheery  self,  Katherine  said  sadly : 
'•  AVe  are  as  mueli  exiled  as  they,  Griffith.  We 
could  never  come  back."  She  choked  up  and 
then,  stcadving  her  voice,  ''  If  you  think  it  is 
God's  will  we  must  submit ;  but— 1jut  every- 
thing makes  it  so  hard — so  cruelly  hard.  I  am 
so  afraid.  I — no  one  ever — eveiy  one  loved 
you  l)efore,  and  now — no\\- — did  you  see  the 
faces,  Griffith,  when  we  left?  Did  you  see 
'Squire  Xelson's  face  ?  "     She  shuddered. 

"  Oh,  is  tJuft  all  ? "  he  exclaimed  lightly. 
"  Is  that  it,  Katherine?  Well,  don't  worry  over 
that,  dear.  We  won't  be  here  to  see  it,  and — of 
course  he  Avouldn't  like  it.  Of  course  it  will 
make  trouble  among  his  negroes  for  awhile  and 
I  am  soiTy  for  that.  I  don't  wonder  he  feels — ■- 
I " 


lis  A.\  vyoFFiriAL  PATiiior. 


"■Dili,  Oriftitli.""  slic  said  nervously,  '*  \a-c  are 
not  (Hit  i)f  llie  State  yet.  and — and,  (rril'litli,""  she 
l()\vcre(l  hrr  voice  t;)  make  sure  tliat  Jeri'y 
vould  not  lirar,  "can't  the  hi\\'  (hi  sometliinq' 
(h'cadful  to  yon  for  leaving'  Pete  here,  fi'ee  ? 
What  can "" 

••Jei'iy.  I  wisli  you"d  drive  up  a  little.  Get 
to  the  ferry  l)efore  it  is  too  dark  to  eross,  eaiTt 
yon?'"  said  ( iriflith,  and  then,  '•  DoiTt  woriy 
ahont   that,    Katherine,   Pete   won't    dare    show 

himself  for  a  day  or  t\\'o.  and  hesides "      lie 

paused.  Tlie  silence  ran  into  minutes.  Then 
he  reaehed  over  and  took  her  hand  and  uith 
closed  eyes  he  hunnued  as  they  rode,  or  broke  off 
to  })oint  silently  to  some  picturesque  spot  or 
to  whistle  to  a  robin.  There  Avas  a  nervous 
tension  on  them  all. 

"  Mos'  Grif,  hit  gwine  ter  be  too  late  to  cross 
dat  ferry  to-night.  .Vin't  we  better  stop  at  dat 
big  house  over  dar  ?  "' 

Mr.  Davenport  opened  his  e^'es.  lie  had 
been  humming — without  time  and  Avith  long- 
pauses  Ijctween  the  words — one  of  his  favorite 
hymns.  He  looked  out  into  the  twilight, 
"  That's  Ferris's  old  mill  and  the  Ferris  house, 


AX  rxnrFK'TAL  patriot.  110 


isn't  it,  KiitliL'rine?  Yes,  Jeny,  call  to  the  boys 
to  stop.  We  will  luive  to  stay  over.  It  is  too 
late  to  eross  now.  That  feny  isn't  very  safe 
even  in  dayliyht." 

The  following  morning,  jnst  before  sunrise, 
there  was  a  rap  at  the  door,  and  a  servant  eanie 
to  say  that  Mr.  Davenport  was  wanted. 
Katherine  was  white  with  fear.  She  sprang 
from  bed  and  went  to  the  Avindow.  There,  in 
front  of  the  house,  stood  Lengthy  Patterson, 
gun  in  hand,  and  Ijeside  liim,  sullen,  crest- 
fallen, and  A\ilh  one  foot  held  in  his  liands, 
stood  Pete.  Grifiith  threw  open  the  window,  and 
Lengthy  waited  for  no  prelude.  He  nodded 
as  if  such  calls  were  of  daily  occurrence,  and 
then  jerked  his  head  toward  Pete.  '•  Saw  him 
runnin'.  Told  him  t'  stop.  He  dim'  out 
faster.  Knowed  you  wanted  him."  He  pointed 
to  Pete's  foot.  It  Avas  bleeding.  There  was  a 
bullet  hole  through  the  instep.  "  Few  words 
comprehends  the  whole,"  added  the  mountaineer 
and  relaxed  his  features  into  what  he  intended 
for  a  humorous  expression.  Grifiith  turned 
sick  and  faint.  'Squire  Nelson's  lesson  had 
been  well  learned   even   by  this  mountaineer. 


12(1  AX  rXOFFICIAL    PATUIOT. 


Pelf  was  a  (la iiy'c rolls  iit-gn*  tn  lie  witlioiil  cnu- 
ti'ol.  lliat  Mas  true.  As  a  iVcc  n^'gi-o  ]vh  lit-re 
^\■itlll>llt  lies,  it  M'as  (inly  a  (jiirstioii  of  lime 
A\]ifii  lie  \\"iiiil(l  (•(iinmil  sunii'  ili'S|i(,M-alc  dci^'d. 
and  yet  ^\"llal  ^\■as  to  Ix."  d(iiit_-'.''  LtMi'_;l]iv 
a|)[)L'ai'f(l  to  L;'i'as|)  llii'  })ix'aclH'r"s  thou^lit.  lie 
slowly  sralcil  liiinscU'  on  ilic  front  slrp  and 
niotionci!  I'rtc   to    sit  ou  tlic  iriass. 

"DoiTl  t'rct.  Take  \cv  time  I'm  a  q'oin' 
l"  tiic  fri-ry.  I'^'W  ^\■o!•ds  comiirclirnds  tli" 
wIioIl',""  lir  I'cmarkrd  to  (iriliitli.  and  cx- 
amined  the  lock  of  liis  L;'un.  with  ei'ilical  dcdilj- 
eration.  WdiL'n  the  wa^-ons  wen'  readv  to  start 
Jerry  ^\■llis|lercd  to  liis  niastci'  that  two  of  the 
other  yoiinL;'  ne^'i'oes  had  rnn  olf  duiiii;.;'  the  lu^ht, 
and  yet  Mr.  Davenpoi't  juished  on.  Jl  was  not 
until  late  the  next  aflei'noon  when  the  dome  of 
the  C'a|)itol  at  A\'asliiiiyton  l»nrst  npon  their 
siL;ht  that  (ii-illilh  and  Kallierine  l)reathed  fi'ee. 
'idle  splendid  vision  in  the  distance  put  new  life 
and  iidt'rest  in  the  iieLj'roes.  Their  restlessness 
settled  into  a  childlike  and  emotional  mmiy"- 
making,  and  snatelies  of  sony,  and  lianter.  and 
laughter  told  that  danger  of  revolt  or  of 
stampede  was  ovei'.     Judy,  alone,  sulked  in  the 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  llil 

waL;'0]is,  and  Maniniv  vented  lier  (lisc()]iteiit  on 
the  \"()unL;'er  ones  1)y  woi'd  and  Mow,  if  tlie}" 
ventured  loo  near  lier  or  lier  ^\•lute  eliarge.  At 
last  tlie  LonL;'  Ijrid^'e  alone  stood  between  tliein 
and  a  lil)erty  tliat  eould  not  be  ^-ainsaid — and 
anotlier  lilxTty  for  tlie  master  Axliieli  liad  been 
so  dearlv  and  hazardously  bougdit. 

The  Long-  IJridge  Avas  s[)anned  and  the 
strange  party  di'ove  down  Pennsylvania  .Vve- 
iiue  to  the  oftiee  of  the  attorney  mIio  had 
arranged  for  their  I'ceeption.  The  J>ong  lUidgc 
Avas  past  and  safety  Avas  theirs  I  Cirillith 
giaiieed  baek  and  then  turned  to  h)ok.  '' Kath- 
erine,"  he  said,  smiling  s;idly,  ''we  have  crossed 
the  dead  line.  We  are  all  safe  I  ""  He  sighed 
with  the  smile  still  on  his  lijis. 

''  It  is  terrible  not  to  feel  safe  !  Terril,)le  ! 
Terrible  I""  she  said  in  an  undertone,  '•  not  to  feel 
safe  from  pursuit,  fi'om  behind,  and  from  un- 
known and  unaccustomed  dangers  near  at 
hand — terrible  ! "' 

So  accustomed  had  Griffith  been  to  caiing 
for  and  housing  these  negroes,  who,  now  that 
they  were  in  the  midst  of  wonders  of  which  they 
never  had  dreamed,  clung  to  him  with  an  abid- 


.l.V   IWOFIKIAL   l'ATi;l()J'. 


iiiL;'  I'aitli  tliut  wliatL'VL'V  slionld  Ix.'lide  lit-  ^Aoiild 
1r'  tlie'i'c  til  iiu't'l  it  for  llu'iii — so  accnstoiiiLiI  !i:i:! 
Ill'  Itcrii  ti»  i-ai'iiiL;'  for  llifiii  tlial  it  luul  iu'\('r 
occiiricil  to  (iril'lilli  jmi  (1(»  sn.  l'N'tii  now  wluai 
tlu'V  Wfic  ]io  longer  ]iis. 


Arc    tl 


IV  raoiiis    rfa(l\' 


askrd   iljL'   at- 


torney's ck'i'k,  and  sciii  aU  lail  Maiiiiiiy  to  tlie 
lulls  \\liiL'li  had  ])L'f\i  pl■o^•idL■d  ou  tlic  out- 
skirts. 

"(lo  aloUL^'  \\\{]i  tliis  ijcntk'inaii,  eliiklii'ii,'" 
]i(.'  saiik  •■Maimiiy  will  sl;iy  w  ilk  us.  and  after 
flerry  takes  us  to  ilie  kohd  ke  \\  ill  eoine  and 
tell  you  wkat  else  to  do.  ( ioo(kl)\-e  .'  (iood- 
])yc  I      Kee[)  togelkel'  unlil  .Iei'r\'  eoines." 

.Vll  \\'as  luieertainty  :  l)ut  it  ^vas  understood 
Ity  all  tkat  several  of  tke  iiegi'Oes  ^^ero  to  go 
wilk  tke  faniilv  and  tke  rest  to  remain  liere. 
Grillilk  kad  decided  to  take  to  kis  new  konie 
Jerry  and  liis  wife,  Ellen,  and  tke  twins; 
^kuumv  and  Judy,  and,  if  jiossiklc,  Sally  and 
Jukn.  It  was  kere.  and  now.  tkat  lie  learned 
Ike  iidiospitality  of  tke  free  states  to  tke  freed 
negroes. 

''  T  intend  to  take  several  of  tkeni  ^vitk  nie 
and " 


.-l.V  UNOFFICIAL  PAriUOr.  123 

''  C'aif  t  do  it,"  broke  in  the  attorney,  "•  In- 
diana 's  a  free  state." 

"•  Well,  I  can  take  'em  along  and  hire  'em,  I 
reckon." 

"  Reckon  3'on  can't — not  in  Indiana." 

"  What ! " 

"  I  said  you  couldn't  take  'em  along  and  hire 
'em." 

"  I'd  like  to  know  the  reason  for  that. 
I " 

"  Law.     Law's  against  it." 

Griffith  drew  his  hand  across  his  face  as  if  he 
had  lost  his  power  to  think. 

"  You  can't  take  antj  of  'em  to  Indiana,  I 
tell  you,"  said  the  attorney  insistent!}^,  and 
Griffith  seemed  dazed.     Then  he  began  again  : 

"  Can't  take  them  ! "  he  exclaimed,  in  utter 
dismay. 

'■•  That's  what  I  said  twice  —  can't  take 
them — none  of  them." 

"  But  I  shall  pay  them  wages  !  Surely  I  can 
take  my  own  choice  of  servants  into  my  own 
household  if  they  are  free  and  I  pay  them 
wages  !  •   Surely " 

"  Surely   you   cminot,    I   tell   you,"  said  the 


124  ^'l-'V   UNOFFICIAL  PATUIOT. 

attorney,  and  addrd  dryly,  'Miot  nnk'ss  you  are 
particularh"  aiixlous  to  run  up  ai^aJiist  tlio  law 
pretty  liard."'  He  rcaclird  up  and  loolc  (l()\\ii  a. 
leatlier-])()Uiid  \i)luiiie.  He  turiird  the  U.'a\'e.s 
slowly,  and  (iriflitli  and  Kalliei'inc  looked  at 
each  other  in  dism.ay.  ''  Tliei'e  it  is  in  lilack  and 
■\yliite.  Xot  a  mere  la\\',  citlicr — sonielinu's  you 
can  eyade  a.  law,  if  you  aic  MallinL;-  to  risk  it; 
but  from  the  ^yay  you  hotli  feel  ahout  leaying 
those  two  free  nig'g'ers  in  A'irginia.  I  n'uess  3-ou 
\yoirt  l)e  vei'y  L^'ood  suhjeets  foi'  that  soj't  of 
thiiiL;' — thirtecnlli  artiele  of  the  coiisl  itution  of 
the  State  itsidf."  He  drrw  a,  pencil  mark  ahtiiq- 
one  side  of  the  paragraph  as  Griflith  read. 
'^  Oh  I  yon'U  tind  these  free  states  have  got 
mighty  little  use  for  niggers.  Ca-me  here  from 
one  of  "em  mystdf.  Free  or  ]iot  free,  they  don't 
want  'em.  You  see,"  he  said,  slowly  drawing 
aline  down  the  other  side  of  the  page,  "  tliey 
piohihit  you  fiom  giving  employment  to  one  ! 
Don't  propose  to  haye  free  nigger  eom|)etition 
with  their  A\hite  laljor.  Can't  hlame  'em."  lie 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

Griflith  hegan  to  protest.     '•'  But  I  have  read 
— I  thouoht -" 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  Vlb 

"  Of  course  you  thouglit — and  you've  read  a 
lot  of  spread-eagle  stuff,  J  don't  douLt.  Talk 
is  one  of  the  cheapest  commodities  in  this 
world ;  but  when  it  comes  to  acts — ''  he 
chuckled  cynically,  "  s'pose  you  had  an  idea 
that  the  border  States  were  just  holding  out 
their  arms  to  catch  and  shield  and  nurture  and 
feed  with  a  gold  spoon  every  nigger  you 
Southern  men  Avere  fools  enough  to  set  free ; 
but  the  cold  fact  is  they  won't  even  let  you 
bring  them  over  and  pay  'em  to  work  for  3-ou  ! 
That  is  one  of  the  charming  little  differences 
between  theory  and  practice.  They've  got  the 
theory  and  you've  iiad  the  practice  of  looking 
after  the  niggers  !  Your  end  is  a  damned  sight 
more  difficult  than  theirs,  as  you'll  discover,  if 
you  haven't  already.  Excuse  me,  I  forgot  you 
were  a  preacher.  You  don't  look  mucli  like 
one."  Griffith  smiled  and  bowed.  Katherine 
had  gone  to  the  front  window,  where  INIammy 
and  the  bahy  were  enjoying  the  unaccustomed 
sights  of  the  street.  Griffith  and  the  lawyer 
moved  toward  them. 

"  No,  sir,  ■  your  niggers  have  all  got  to  stay 
right  here  in  Washino-ton  and  starve  or  steal. 


l-2i)  AX  Uy OFFICIAL  PATItlOr. 

Vou  ciiu't  lake  \va  to  Tiidiana,  that's  iiiiglity 
certain.  Why,  when  tliat  Constitution  was 
passed  only  a  year  or  two  ago,  there  wern't  but 
21,000  voters  in  the  whole  l)lessed  State  that 
didn't  vote  to  }iunish  a.  \Ahite  man  for  even  giv- 
ing emplo^ynieut  to  a  free  nigger.  Pul)lie  senti- 
lueiit  as  \\ell  as  law  is  nil  against  you.  You 
ean"t  take  those  uio-gers  to  Indiana — tliat's  cer- 
tain  :  " 

"•  Dar  now  !  Dar  now  I  wat  I  done  tole  you?  *' 
exelainied  Maniniy.  '•  What  I  done  tole  ]Mos' 
(irif  "bout  all  dis  htolisluiess  ?  Mis'  Kate,  you 
ain't  gwine  ter  "low  dat  is  you?  ]Me  an"  Judy 
free  niggers  I  Tmrn  free  niggers  wid  no 
fand)ly  I  ""  The  tone  indit'ated  that  no  lower 
de})lli  of  degradation  and  misfortune  than  this 
eould  l)e  thrust  upon  any  human  lieing. 

''  Ts  gwine  ter  keep  dis  lieah  baby,  den. 
Who  gwine  ter  take  eahr  ol)  her  widout  me?" 
The  child  was  patting  the  bhudc  hu'e  and  pull- 
ing the  bhiek  ear  in  a  gleeful  effort  to  call  forth 
the  usual  snort  and  threat  to  ''  s waller  lier 
whole." 

''  Bless  yoah  liawt,  honey,  yoh  ain't  gwine  t' 
hab    no    odder    nus,    is    yo"  ?       Nus  !       Nus  ! 


^l.V  UNOFFICIAL  PAriUOT.  127 

White  trusli  t'  nu.s  1113-  bal)}- !  Yoli  des  gwiue 
ter  lull)  yoli  ole  mammy,  dat's  wat !  " 

The  attorney  took  Mr.  Davenport  and  Kath- 
erine  to  an  inner  office.  It  was  two  hours  later 
when  they  came  out.  Both  AA'ere  pale  and  half 
dazed,  but  arrangements  had  been  made,  papers 
had  been  drawn,  by  which  the  nine  oldest 
negroes  were,  in  future,  to  appear  at  this  office 
once  every  three  months  and  draw  the  sum  of 
twenty-four  dollars  each,  so  long  as  they  might 
live.  The  3'ounger  ones  must  hereafter  shift, 
as  best  the}-  could,  for  themselves.  The  die 
was  cast.  The  bridges  were  burned  behind 
them.  There  was  no  return,  and  the  negroes 
were  indeed,  "  free,  town  niggers,"  henceforth. 

"  God  forgive  me  if  I  have  done  wrong,"  said 
Griffith,  as  he  left  the  office.  "  If  I  have  done 
wrong  in  deserting  these  poor  black  children, 
for  children  they  will  always  be,  though  pen- 
sioned as  too  old  to  work  !  Poor  Mammj^,  Poor 
Judy  !     And  Mart,  and  old  Peyton  !  " 

He  shook  his  head  and  compressed  his  lips  as 
he  Avalked  toward  the  door,  Avith  a  stoop  in  his 
shoulders  that  was  not  there  when  he  had  en- 
tered.    All  the  facts  of  this  manumission  were 


128  .1-Y  uxoFFiriAL  p Armor. 

so  \\  lidllv  ;it  variaiire  ^\il^l  iLu  eslablislicd  tlR'- 
oru's.  I^\i'iT  tiling-  liivd  ])vv]\  so  (liffcrriit  fitun 
evfii  ^\■llat  ( nil'litli  liad  cxjicctcd  lo  iiiuct.  As 
tliey  i'cuc-IiimI  ilic  door  tin'  atloriu'V  took  ilic 
prolTci'cd  liaiid  and  laug'liL'(l  a  little,  sat  irieallw 

'•  Now  J  want  voii  In  tcU  luc  what  good  \-oii 
ex})Oct  all  lliis  to  do?  A\']iat  was  tlic  tisc  ? 
What  is  gaiiird  ■/  ]t"s  clear  to  a  iiian  \\iih()ut  a 
spy-glass  what  "s  /ost  all  around ;  hut  it"s  o-oino- 
to  pu/./.h'  a  prophet  to  show  A\here  the  gain 
conu'S  in.  in  a.  i-ise  like  this.  If  youdl  exeuse 
the  remark,  sir,  it  looks  like  a  piece  of  inniantic 
tom-htolery.  to  a  man  up  a  tree.  A  Icind  of 
toiu-1'oolery,  that  dov's  haiin  all  around — to 
hlaek  ;uid  to  A\hite,  to  hond  and  to  free.  Of 
course  if  '///  of  \'m  A\'ere  f'l'eeitwouhh  no  douht, 
Ije  l)etter.  Via  inclined  to  think  that  way,  m}'- 
self.  lUit  just  tell  me  how  many  slave-owners 
—even  if  thev  wanted  to  do  it — critihj  do  as  you 
have  ?  Simplv  impossihle  I  Then,  hesides, 
Avhei'e'd  they  go — the  niggers?  Pension  the 
whole  infei-nal  h)t?  Gad!  hut  il"s  the  dream 
of  a  man  who  never  will  A\ake  up  to  this  world, 
as  it  is  l)uilt.  ^Vnd  Avhat  good  Iiarc  you  done  ? 
Just   stop    long   enough   to  tell  me   that ;  "  he 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  rATUIOT  129 


insisted,  still  hokling  Giiilitirs  hand.  He  was 
smiling  down  at  liis  client  who  stood  on  a 
lower  step.  There  was  in  his  face  a  tinge  of 
contempt  and  of  pity  for  the  lack  of  worldly 
wisdom. 

'^  I'm  not  pretending  to  judge  for  you  nor  for 
other  men,  ]Mr.  AVapley,  hut  for  myself  it  was 
wrong  to  own  them.  That  is  all.  That  is 
simple,  is  it  not?"'  The  lawyer  thought  it 
was,  indeed,  very,  very  simple  ;  hut  to  a  nature 
like  Grilhtlfs  it  was  all  the  argument  needed. 
His  face  was  clouded,  for  the  lawyer  did  not 
seem  satisfied.  Griffith  could  not  guess 
why. 

'^  ]My  conscience  troubled  me.  I  am  not  advis- 
ing other  men  to  do  as  I  have  done.  Sometimes 
I  feel  almost  inclined  to  advise  them  not  to  fol- 
low my  example  if  they  can  feel  satisfied  not  to 
— the  cost  is  very  great — bitterly  heavy  has  the 
cost  been  in  a  thousand  ways  that  no  one  can 
ever  know  but  the  man  who  tries  it — and  this 
little  woman,  here."  He  took  her  hand  and 
turned  to  help  her  into  the  carriage. 

''  Ah,  Katherine,  you  have  been  very  brave  ! 

The  worst  has  fallen  on  you,  after  all — for  no 
9 


130  AN   rXOFFICIAL  I'ArilloT. 

sense  of  imjieralive  duty  uri;'e(l  you  on.  For 
?////  sake  3'ou  have  ^'iclded  !  Ilrr  bravery,  sir, 
lias  Ijeeii  doulile,  and  it  is  almost  more  than  I 
can  Ix'ar  to  ask  il — to  accept  it — ol'  her  I  For 
my  own  sak'e  I  It  has  Ijcen  stdlish,  in  a  sense, 
selfish  in  mc."' 

Katherine  smilcfl  throucj'h  dim  eves  and 
pressed  her  lips  hanl  tou'ether.  She  did  not 
trust  herself  to  s[)eak.  She  l)o\\-ed  to  the 
attorney  and  turned  toward  Mammy  and  the 
baby  as  they  stood  l)y  the  carriage  door. 

"  Fm  a-goin'  wid  yoli  alls  to  de  hotel,  ain't  I, 
i\Iis'  Kath'rine  ?  Dar  now,  honey,  des  })ut  j'oali 
foot  dar  an'  in  yoh  goes  !  Jerry,  can't  yoli  hoi' 
dem  bosses  still  !  WIkki,  dar  !  Whoa  !  Mos' 
Beverly,  he  radder  set  in  front  Avid  Jerry,  an'  I 
gwine  ter  set  inside  A\"id  de   babv,  an'  yo'  alls." 

The  old  woman  l)ustled  al)out  and  gave 
orders  until  they  M'ere,  at  last,  at  the  door  of 
the  Metropolitan,  where,  nntil  other  matters 
were  arranged,  the  family  Avould  remain. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  to  save  themselves 
from  the  final  trial  of  a  heartbreaking  farewell, 
from  protests,  fi'om  the  sight  of  Aveeping 
children  and  excited   negroes,  three   days   later 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATUIOr.  \?,\ 

Mr.  Davenport  and  his  family  left  by  an  early 
train  fur  the  west  hefore  the  negroes,  aside  from 
Jerry,  knew  that  they  were  gone.  And  in  tlie 
place  of  the  spectacle  of  a  runaway  negro 
escaping  from  white  owners,  the  early  loungers 
heheld  a  runaway  white  family  escaping  from 
the  galling  bondage  of  ownership  ! 


132  AX  J'xnrrn/iAi.  rATUior. 


iWWVV.W  IX. 

"Our  Im;ii-Ii  .,r  iia'iir.'.""— s7/.'/,-r,x;,,-,o-''. 

As  lime  M'oi'c  oil  till'  fauiih"  Imd,  in  some  soi't, 
at  U-ast,  adjusti'd  Jl^clf  to  the  new  order  of 
niiiiL;-s.  Tlio  (liak'i't  of  tlic  .stra})piiig  Irisli- 
Avomaii  \\lio  presided  over  tlie  kitelieii  of  the 
small  luit  eoiiiforialile  new  lionu'.  and  tlie  no  less 
imaeenstomed  s[)ee(/li  of  the  natives,  themselves, 
weic  a  iieAer  failing' soni'ce  of  amusenieid  to  the 
ehildi'en  and,  indeed,  to  ( iriflilh  himsidf.  His 
old  s[iirits  seemed  to  I'etnrn  as  he  M'onhl  repeat, 
\\ilh  his  heartv  lan^h,  tin,'  vilhe^X'  gossip, 
couched  in  the  village  forms  of  speeeh. 

Ivieh  (Liv  as  he  opened  his  Cnic'tuuatl  Gazette 
lie  wonld  laugh  otit  some  l)it  of  town  news  \A"hieli 
lie  had  overheard  at  the  post-oiliee  or  on  his  way 
liome.  The  varving  forms  of  pentiriousness  ex- 
hibited in  the  dealings  hetweeu  the  farmers  and 
the  villagers  impresse<I  hinr  as  most  amtising  of  all. 
The  haggling  over  a  few  cents,  or  the  payment 


AX  UXOFFICIAL  FATEIOr.  133 

of  money  between  neighbors  for  fruit  or  milk  or 
services  of  a  nature  wliirh  lie  liad  always  looked 
upon  as  ordinary  neiglil)orly  courtesy,  filled  liim 
Avilh  rnirtli.  One  day,  shortly  after  their  arrival, 
Beverly  had  brought  his  mother  a  dozen 
peaches  from  a  neighljor's  yard.  The  boy  had 
su[)posed  when  asked  if  his  motlier  vould  not 
like  them  that  they  were  intended  as  a  present, 
lie  thanked  the  own.er  heartily  and  said  that  he 
was  sure  his  mother  would  very  greatly  enjoy 
them. 

"  After  he  gave  them  to  me,"  the  boy  said, 
indignantly,  '  Six  cents  wnth,  an'  cheap  at 
that ! '  says  he,  and  held  out  his  hand  !  Well,  I 
could  have  fainted  !  Selling  twelve  peaches  to 
a  ncio'hbor  I  Wiiy,  a  mountaineer  wouldn't  do 
that !  And  then  he  had  asJced  me  to  take 
tliem !  I  laid  ten  cents  in  my  pocket  and  I 
] landed  it  to  him  and  walked  off.  He  yelled 
something  to  me  about  change,  but  I  never 
looked  back." 

Ilis  father  enjoyed  the  joke,  as  he  called  it, 
immensely.  He  chuckled  over  it  again  and 
again  as  he  sat  in  the  twilight. 

One  clay  late  in  that  summer — the  summer  of 


]:!4  .l.V   rXOFFlCIAL  PATllIOT. 

">'>" — {]\c.  cliilclix'u  wiTC  attract(,Ml  l)y  a  y'lx'at 
iipi'oai'  ;iii(l  iKiise  in  tlio  street.  .\  group  of 
f^rliodl  cliildreii,  some  street  luaiei's,  and  a  few 
luatiu'e  l)ut  curious,  L;ro\vn  citizens  wei'e 
g'atliered  al>out  anoliject  in  tlie  middle  of  tlio 
street.  I  Toots  and  sliouts  of  derision  went  up. 
^V  ]i;df-\vitted  g'irl  eii-cled  slowly  about  tlie 
outskii'ts  (if  tlie  crowd  making  aimless  motions 
and  passes  witli  her  Lands  toward  the  ol)ject  of 
interest.  A'oices  clashe(l  with  voices  in  an 
effort  to  gain  coherent  sound  aud  sense.  Was 
it  a  bear  or  a  hand  organ  ?  The  children  ran  to 
see.  Beverly  followecl  more  slowly.  I>everly 
seemeil  a  young  man  now,  so  sedate  and  digni- 
lied  was  this  oldest  son. 

'^  What  is  it  ?  "' 

"  Look  out  there  !  Look  out  there  !  It's 
going  that  ^vay  !  ' 

'^  What  ?     What  you  say  ?     Who  ?  "' 

"Who  is  ]Mosgrif?  No  man  by  that  name 
don't  live  here."' 

"  Xio-nrer,  ni^'crer,  inill  a  trigger,  never  grow 
an  inch  a  bigger  !  " 

"  Get  her  some  soap  !  Let's  take  her  and  give 
her  a  wash !  " 


A^^  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  135 

'^  What  ?  Who  ?  Shut  up  your  noise  there, 
will  you,  Dave  Benton.  She's  askin'  fer  some- 
body— some  feller  she  knows.     Wlio  ?  " 

There  was  a  pause  in  the  progress  of  the  pro- 
cession as  it  reached  jSIr.  Davenport's  side 
gate.  Beverly  was  craning  his  neck  to  see  over 
the  heads  of  the  crowd.  His  two  brothers  took 
a  su]'er  method.  They  dodged  under  arms  and 
between  legs  and  were  making  straiglit  for  the 
center  of  the  crowd  where  they  had  lieard  an 
accustomed  A^oice. 

'^  What  I  axes  yo'  alls  is,  whah's  my  ]\Ios' 
Grif  !  Dey  done  tole  me  down  yander  dat  he 
lib  down  dis  a-way.  Whah's  my  Mos'  Grif's 
house  ?     I  got  ter  fine  my  ]\Ios'  Grif  !  " 

"  Aunt  Judy !  Aunt  Judy  ! "  shrieked  the 
two  younger  boys,  in  mad  delight.  "  It's  Aunt 
Judy !  Oh,  Beverly,  come  quick  !  She's  hurt ! 
She's  been  struck  with  a  rock  !  Come  quick — 
quick  !  " 

LeRoy  had  reached  the  old  woman,  Avho  be- 
gan to  tremble  and  cry  as  soon  as  she  felt  that 
friends  were  indeed  near.  She  threw  her  arms 
about  his  neck  and  half-sobbed  with  joy.  Then 
she   tried   to  pick  up  the  younger  boy  in  her 


136  -l-Y  Uy OFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 

arms,  as  of  old,  l)ut  licr  strength  gave  A\av,  and 
slie  fell  on  her  knees  hesid;,-  hrr  l)un(lle  and 
stick.  \  langliing  siiont  \\-ent  np.  Dave  lieu- 
ton  shi(_'d  a  small  stone  at  lier. 

"•'How  dale  you  I  How  dare  vou  !  you  com- 
mon loafers  I  ""  slnieked  LidJov.  Mhite  with 
rage.  lie  struck  out  \\\{\\  hoth  lists  at  those 
Avho  M'ere  nearest.  "How  dare  you  throw 
at  iVunt  Judy!  Wow  dare  you,  ^'ou  low- 
down I "' 

A\'ords  failed  him,  and  he  was  choking  with 
rage,  ])ut  Lolh  tists  A\ei'e  liuding  a  mark  on  ilio 
visage  of  the  pi'ostrate  Dave.  Ilis  hsls  and  the 
astoinshment  hdt  at  llie  sight  of  while  cliildreii 
cai'cssing  an<l  calling  the  old  hlack  creature 
''aunty  "  had  sei\'ed  to  (dear  a  space  ahout 
thi'm.  I'^very  one  had  hdlen  l)aek.  Tlie  half- 
M'itted  girl  alone  I'eiiiained  with  ihe  center- 
group,  making  alndess  passes,  with  ill-regulated 
hands,  at  ^Vunt  Ju(h-.  So  ahsorhing  was  this 
strange  creature  to  the  1)ewildered  senses  that 
not  even  the  struggling  hoys  ou  the  ground  at 
lier  feet  served  to  divert  her  gaze  from  the  old 
Ijlack  face. 

*'  J  lis  aunt's  a.  nigger  !  " 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  137 


''  Kissed  her,  l)y  gum  I  " 

"  Tliej-'re  the  A'^irginia  preacher's  kids  !  " 

"  Never  knew  before  that  some  of  their  kin 
was  niggers  ! " 

Dave  Benton  was  now  on  top,  and  Howard 
was  pulling  at  his  leg  in  an  effort  to  help  his 
brother.  Suddenly  Roy  swirled  on  top  and 
grasped  the  helpless  Dave  Ijy  the  tliroat. 

"  You  let  her  alone,  you  dirty  little  — devil !  " 
he  ground  out  between  his  teeth,  "  or  I'll  kill 


you ! 


His  rage  was  so  intense,  his  face  was  so  set 
and  livid,  tluit  it  looked  as  if  he  might  execute 
the  threat  before  the  astonished  and  half-amused 
bystanders  realized  the  danger.  Beverly  sprang 
to  the  rescue.  lie  had  luistled  Judy  through 
the  side  gate  and  into  the  house  with  Howard. 

"  LePvoy  !  LeRoy  !  stop — stop  !  Get  up  !  let 
go  !  Get  up  this  instant !  "  he  commanded,  loos- 
ening the  boy's  grasp.  "  Look  at  that  blood ! 
Father  will  be  so  ashamed  of  you  !  " 

He  pushed  the  boy  ahead  of  him  and  the  door 
closed  behind  them,  leaving  a  hooting  mob  out- 
side and  Dave  Benton  with  a  bleeding  nose  and 
a  very  sore  head. 


138 


.l.V   Uy OFFICIAL  PATIIIOT. 


"  Got  a  nigyt-^'i'  fi-r  a  ant.  ]>y  ynsli  I "'  cxclaiine*! 
one,  a>;  tliey  tui'iicd  .slowly  away,  leaving  tlic 
weak-niiii(lr(l  gui  aloiio  rii-diiiL;'  alioiit  the  q-atc, 
making  inarticnlate  noises  ami  movements  of 
indirection  at  tlie  liouse  and  its  enrii.ius  and  un- 
canny new  oeeii[jant. 

lint  l^dioy's  lilows  and  liis  taunts  liore  fruit 
in  due  season.  A  week  latei',  Dave  Ijenton's 
father,  -wlio  had  nui'sed  liis  wrath,  caused  serv- 
ice to  lie  made  u[ion  ?\rr.  l)aven_[ioil  to  sliow 
cause  why  he  Mas  not  infringing  \\\v  law  and 
the  State  constitution  l)y  keeping  in  liis  service 
a  free  negro.  Mr.  Davenpoi-t  ex|ilaine(l  to  the 
court  tliat  lie  liad  not  hrouglit  Jier  into  tlie  State 
and  was  in  no  way  responsihle  for  her  having 
come.  Indeed,  .luil\'  A\"ouM  not  or  (/oidd  not 
tell  exactly  how  slie  had  managed  it  lierself. 
That  she  liad  keen  helped  forward  \)y  some  one 
seemed  evident.  lint  (irilliiirs  plea  v^ould  not 
suilice.  She  was  here.  lie  \\as  avowe(lly  the 
cause  of  lier  coming.  She  was  a  free  negro.  lie 
was  giving  her  employment.  'Jdiat  was  against 
the  State  constitutiou.  Cleaily,  she  must  be 
seut  away.  Griilitli  consulted  witli  a  lawver. 
The  lawyer  gravely  stated,  in   open   court,  tliat 


.l.Y  UNOFFICIAL  PATBIOT.  139 

the  old  negro  was  a  guest,  and  not  an  employe, 
of  the  Davenport  family.  The  jndge  smiled. 
There  was  no  law,  no  constitutional  provision, 
no  statute  to  prevent  a  family  from  having  ne- 
gro guests  in  Indiana ;  provided  they  would 
give  bond  for  the  good  hehavior  during  life,  and 
burial  in  case  of  deatli,  of  such  guest ! 

"  -^  J  gum !  I  reckon  she  is  kin  to  'em,  shore 
'nuff ! "  remarked  Dave's  father,  softo  voce. 
"  Wonder  which  one's  sister  she  is — her'n  or 
his'n  ?  " 

"•Do'  knoAv,  but  it's  one  er  t'other;  fer  all 
three  o'  the  boys  call  her  ant,  'n"  the  little  gal, 
too.  She  rides  on  her  back.  Seen  her  out  in 
the  yard  t'other  day." 

"  'Fore  rd  let  one  o'  mine  kiss  a  nio-crer  'u' 
ride  on  her  back  !  " 

"Well,  7  should  smile!" 

"  Sh  !     What's  that  the  jedge  said  ?  " 

"  Goin'  t'  take  it  under  'dvisement,  perviden' 
Davenport  agrees  t'  bind  hisself — give  bon'." 

And  so  it  came  al)Out,  as  I  told  you  in  the  be- 
ginning, that  this  man,  who  was  already  a  law- 
breaker in  his  native  State,  unblushingly  be- 
came a  law-evader  in  the  State  of  his  adoption ; 


140  ^-1^^  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 

for  llie  papci's  \Vfru  duly  drawn  up  and  iinally 
.si^-iii'd  and  executed.  Aunt  Judy  was  (il'lieially 
and  IfLi'ally  deelai-ed  not  to  he  eni|ili)Ved  1)V,  l.»ut 
to  1)e  a.  visitor  in.  tlie  family:  '•  and.  fui'tliennore. 
it  is  deelai'ed  and  a;_;-ieed.  tliat,  in  ease  of  lierlje- 
eoniiny  indigent,  w  in  ease  of  her  deatli  ^\"llile 
\\itliiii  tlie  lioi'ders  ol'  ilie  State,  the  aforenamed 
liev.  (iriflilli  Davenport  hinds  himself,  liis  lieirs 
and  assi^'us,  to  suppoi't  while  living',  or  hury  in 
ease  of  the  death  of  tlie  aforenamed  Jud\'  Dav- 
en[)ort  (colored);  and.  fnrlhermoi(.'.  ae'rees 
tliat  she  shall  in  no  manner  Mhalsoever  Ix'- 
come  a  charge  upon  the  Slate  of  Indiana. 
The  ex;[)enses  of  this  procedure  to  1je  paid,  also, 
hy  the  said  Wvx.  ririflilh  Davenport." 

'"  T  ret'kou  my  conscience  is  getting  a  little 
tough,  Katherine,"  said  her  hushand,  smiling, 
that  night  as  he  recited  the  matter  to  the 
family.  "  I  signed  that  paper  with  precious 
little  compunction — and  yet  it  u'i(>i  evading  the 
law,  pure  and  simple — so  far  as  the  intent  goes  I 
Fancy  Aunt  Judy  looking  u})on  luu'self  as  a 
guest  of  the  family  !  lla  !  ha  I  ha!  lia  ! ""  The 
idea  so  anuised  him  that  he  laughed  upr(Xiriously. 
Five    minutes   later  there   floated  out  on  to  the 


.i:\^  Uy OFFICIAL  PATinOT  141 

poix'lu  A^'liere  Ju<ly  .s:it  with  tlie  eliiklren  telling 
tliein  Avondcrful  tales  of  Wasliinyton,  the  notes 
of  "  Joy  to  the  Avorld  !      The   Lor<l  lias   come  I" 

'•  De  (/0(>(I  La.w(.l,  Lless  iii\'  soul  I  '"  exelaimed 
the  ohl  woman,  listening,  "I  ain't  heerd  nothiu' 
so  good  as  dat  sonn'  ter  nie,  sense  yo'  alls 
runned  away  I  Dat  slioly  do  soun"  like  ole 
times  !     Hit  sholy  d(.)  !  " 

Rosanna,  the  Irish  cook,  sniffed.  She  Avas 
hanging  out  of  the  kitchen  window  listening  to 
aunt  Judy's  tales  of  adventure.  ''  She  do  talk  the 
quarest,  schure,  an'  it's  barely  tlie  rear  av  her 
remarks  thet  a  Christian  can  understhand ;  " 
mumbled  Kosanna  to  herself. 

"  Well,  but  how  about  the  twins.  Aunt  Judy? 
You  said  you'd  tell  us  all  about  the  twins  just 
as  soon  as  supper  was  over.  Now,  hurry,  or  I'll 
have  to  go   to   bed,''  urged  Howard. 

The  old  woman  shifted  around  in  her  chair  to 
make  sure  the  ears  of  Rosanna  were  not  too 
near  and  lowered  her  voice  to  a  stage  whisper. 

"  Hone}',  dem  dar  twins  is  des  so  spilt  dat 
dey  is  gettin'  taint}' !  '' 

"  Bad,  you  meaii  ?  "  asked  Roy. 

"•  Dat's  wat  I   said,  an'  dat's  wat  I  sticks  to. 


14-J  .1-V  J'XnFFIClAL  I'ATIIIOT. 


Dcv's  .so  sjiilto  (lev's  t;inU\'.  liad  I  Why  bad 
aiiTt  ]io  nanu'  To"  liit.  Dcy  is  mouldy.  I)e 
onlk'st  reason  \\\\\  dcv  aiiTl  in  tin'  lo(k-U[)  is 
kase  dev  ain"l  yot  Ivt-tclifil  u[>  \\id  \\{.  I^ey 
c^'wine   ler  git  dar,  slio"  as  yoli   bawn.      I^ey  is 

dai :  •' 

''  I  dou'l  bi'lieve  il.  I  doiri  l)(diL'Yf  the  twins 
are  so  Lad.  You  are  just  mad  at  "em. 
Tliev ""      llt>\'  was  always  a,  partisan. 

^  Look  a.  la'ah.  lioni'v.  ^•oh  don't  know  Avliat 
yoh's  talkin'  "l)out.  I  )em  twins  is  j)Ium  spilte, 
I  tell  yoli.  fJerrv.  he's  a  tfamln"  an"  he  ean"t 
Avatch  "em,  an"  di'V  maw  she"s  a  wuekin"  fo"  one 
er  dem  Conyressers,  an'  di'in  twins  is  des  plum 
run  Avile."' 

''  Peihaps  you  expect  too  mueli  of  the  morals 
of  WashiuL^'ton,""  suggested  Ueverly,  winking  at 
Rov  to  give  tlu'  old  woman  full  sway. 

*•' jMo'Is  I  nio'ls  !  Why,  lawsy.  honey,  yoh 
don"  know  what  yoli  talkin"  "bout  no  mo"  dan 
i\Ios"  I{oy  do.  Dev  ai)t't  no  mo'ls  in  Wasliin'- 
ton — white  iter  black.  ^leljlw  dem  dar  folks 
had  some  "fo  dcy  cum  dar;  but  dey  sholy  did 
leave  de  whole  lot  back  in  de  place  whali  dey 
cum   fum  !     Dey    sholy    did    dat.      j\Jo"ls !     In 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  143 

Wasliiii'ton  ?  Dey  ain't  none  dar  ! "'  She 
shook  her  finger   at  Beverly. 

Roy  saw  his  opportunity  as  she  started  for  the 
door  to  shut  off  further  questions.  "  Oh  !  go 
away,  Aunt  Judy,  you  don't  know  what  morals 
are,"'  he  said,  "-that's  all.  In  Washington  they 
are  government  property'  and  they  keep  'em  in 
tin  cans.     Of  course  you  didn't  see  any." 

"  Dey  dun  los'  de  opener  t'  dat  can,  too,"  she 
remarked,  hobbling  up  the  steps.  ]\Iany  and 
blood-curdling  had  been  her  stories  of  life  at 
the  capital.  In  her  opinion,  the  seat  of  govern- 
ment had  no  redeeming  equalities.  ''Stay  dar? 
Why,  dis  chile  wouldn't  stay  dar  fo'  no  'mount 
o'  money,  ner  fer  nobody.  She's  got  too  much 
self-'spect  fer  dat,  de  good  Lawd  he  do  know. 
Stay  dar?     No,  sah!"* 

"  Well,  the  others  are  getting  along  all  right, 
I'll  bet  you,"  piped  up  Howard,  as  her  foot 
struck  the  top  step.     She  turned. 

"  I  ain't  gwine  ter  tell  yoh  no  mo'  to-night. 
I'se  gwine  ter  bed  ;  but  wat  I  knows  is  des  dis  : 
De  way  dey  gets  'long,  dey  goes  t'  dat  dar  Mr. 
Lawyer  an'  gits  dat  money  Mos'  Grif  done  lef . 
De  f us'  mont'  dey  sholy  dus  lib  high ;  de  nex' 


144  .1-V  rXOFFK'IAL    PATRIOT. 

inoiir  (ley  sorter  srial)bl(_'s  ciiong',  an'  do  las' 
niont'  i\r\  slidly  is  liawd  times.  Dey  ain't  n»^ 
nse  talking,  i\r\  sli(.)l\' is  dal  !  X<»w  I'm  des' 
g'\\'in(_'  ill  "n  ta]-;c  ;i  gdoil  hi^' jorumof  }i('psissi\\'av 
for  my  stumnuck,  'n  t^'it  erloiiy  ter  mv  biMl,  fore 
de  rustei's  '^in  ter  erow  fer  mawnin'."'  ^\nd  slie 
disap[)(_'a.i'(Ml  in  the  darl-;ness,  sliaking-  her  head 
and  reileratiny  tlie  refrain,  as  to  the  badness  of 
tliose  twins. 

The  story  of  Annt  Judy's  travels,  in  so 
far  iis  she  vouehsal'ed  to  tell  them  and  not 
to  res(jrt  to  fietion  ()r  silenee  —  her  advent- 
ures l)y  land  and  water,  Ijy  Avagon  and 
rail,  in  seareh  of  ••  Mos'  ( irif,"  spread  far  and 
wide.  The  ohl  woman  could  not  set  her 
foot  outside  of  tlie  door  ^yitllout  a  following  of 
Ijtivs  and  girls,  and,  as  a  faithful  liistorian,  it 
would  little  avail  me  to  omit,  also,  of  men  and 
of  women,  \\\\o  hooted,  stared  at  and  otherwise 
indicated  that  she  was  less  tlian  human  and 
more  tlian  curious.  She  was  tlie  jiariali  of  the 
village,  all)eit  LeRoy's  lists  had  done  their  per- 
fect A\ork  in  that  she  was  no  more  st(Mied.  But 
she  was  content — so,  at  least,  she  asserted — and 
not  even  the  longing  for  Jerry  and  Ellen  and 


.-IX  UNOFFICIAL  PATIUOT.  145 

those  badly-spoiled  twins  (of  Avlioni  she  never 
tired  talking)  served  to  convince  her  that  there 
could  be,  on  all  this  green  earth,  any  home  for 
lier  except,  alone,  the  one  that  sheltered  "  Mos' 
Grif  an'  jMis'  Kath'rine  an'  dat  blessed  baby," 
now  grown  too  large  to  be  a  ba1)y  longer  except 
alone  to  this  loving  old  soul,  to  whom,  forever, 
she  was  "  my  baby." 
10 


14n  .1Y  rYOFFTCTAT.  PATE  TOT. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  To  tliino  own  self  be  Iruo."     S!inl-r.spearc. 

Thei:e  had  ])vcn  a  l>riglit  side  for  ririlTilli 
in  all  this  eiiaiigf,  too.  Xcw  and  Mann  friends 
had  been  made.  Tie  had  watdicd  with  a  feel- 
ing of  joy  tlie  enervating-  inllueiiee  of  slave 
o\vnt'rslii[i  di-op  from  Ileverly's  young  shonlders 
— and  Ujion  the  other  l)oys  lie  felt  tliat  it  liad 
never  east  its  Idight  with  a  [)ower  that  ^\'onld 
ontlast  early  }'onth.  It  tilled  him  ^\'itll  pleasure 
to  tlnd  his  sons  surroundeil  in  the  academy  and 
college  witli  the  mental  atmosphere  and  influ- 
ence of  freedom,  only.  lie  encouraged  tliem  to 
join  the  debating  societies  and  Greek  letter 
orders  which  admitted  discussion  of  such  topics. 
Beverly  was  now  in  Ids  Sophomore  year  and  was 
an  ardent  stndent  of  free-soil  doctrines.  lie 
read  and  al^sorbed  like  a  fresh  young  sponge  the 
political  literature  of  the  time.     He  Avas  always 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  147 


read}'  and  eager  to  enter  the  debates  of  his  ehiss 
upon  the  ever  pregnant  and  alwa^-s  recurring 
shivery  extension  and  compromise  bills.  The 
young  fellows  had  numerous  hot  arguments  over 
the  position  of  the  different  statesmen  of  the 
time,  and  Ste[)hen  A.  Douglas  furnished  Bev- 
erly with  many  a  hard  hour's  thinking.  i\Ir. 
Davenport  adhered  to  Douglas ;  but  Beverly 
inclined  to  persistently  o[)pose  his  point  of 
view.  When,  at  last,  Douglas  had  taken  the 
side  of  repeal  in  tliat  famous  measure — the 
Missouri  Compromise  Bill,  which  had  l^een  at 
once  the  hope  and  the  despair  of  all  the  great 
northwest, — Beverly  no  longer  hesitated.  He 
and  his  father  took  different  sides,  finally  and 
forever,  in  their  political  opinions.  At  com- 
mencement time,  year  after  year,  the  governor 
of  the  State  was  made  the  feature  of  the  college 
exercises,  and  he  had  several  times  been  the 
guest  of  Mr.  Davenport.  This  had  served  to 
draw  to  the  house  many  politicians  whose  talks 
had  o'iven  both  stimulus  and  material  to 
Beverly's  already  ardent  political  nature,  which 
was  so  fast  leading  him  outside  the  bounds 
readied  by  his  father.     The  scope  and  class  of 


148  -l-V   rxOFFiriAL  rATUloT. 


]iis  reading'  dftiMi  1i'()ul)li'il  Lis  motlicr  sorely- 
(^iK'  (lay  sIk'  liad  l;-oiic  lo  (iriHiilL  in  disma,}'. 
It  was  SI)  scliloin  tliat  slir  fi'lt  (>l)li;_;'((l  t'.>  crit- 
icisc  tills  (.•]<li.-si  soil  (if  lici's.  ujiDii  wlioiii  slie 
loolvcd  willi  a  pride  aliiio^l  licyoiid  words  {o 
(.'X|ircss,  tlial  (irii'lilli  \\'as  asloni^licil. 

''  1  wisli.  (irii'lilli.  Ilia!  \nii  wduld  tdl  Pxjverly 
not  to  read  lliis  liook.  Il  is  llio  st/coiid  tinu.;  I 
liavc  told  liini  and  lie  is  dt.'tt.'iauliKMl.  I  l)urn(.'(l 
tliu  lirst  C'opv  and  lie  lias  liDii^lit  another.  lie 
sa-vs  lie  will  liin-lift\-  if  I  Imrn  iIr'hi  l)i.-f(.)re  he 
has  read  il  all.  lie  is  that  (h^'terniined  to  read 
il.      I  hated  lo  tell  yon,  hnt "" 

ririlTith  held  out  his  hand  for  llu,'  ohnoxious 
liook.  Then  he  exidainu'il  in  snr])rise:  "The 
'  Age  of  Reason  "  I  I'aine's  liook  I  AVhere  did  he 
happen  to  get  that  '/  '"  He  looked  over  the  title 
pag-e. 

'' T  see,  I  see  I  '  liights  of  ?klan  " — he  quoted 
from  that  in  liis  last  essay  at  eoUege.  It  was 
good,  too — exeelk'iit.  I've  never  read  either 
one,  l)ut — oh,  tut,  tut.  mother,  why  not  let  hini 
read  it?  T  wouldn't  worry  over  it.  Beverly  is 
all  right.  He  has  got  a  hetter  mind  than  you 
have— a  far  hetter    one;   \]\:ui  I  have— whv    not 


.l.V  UNOFFU'TAL  PATIUOT.  149 


let  lum  use  it?  Let  liim  read  anything  lie 
wants  to.  We  can't  judge  for  hhn.  He'll  Le 
all  light  anyho\y.  You  know  that.  He  and  I 
differ  in  politics  now.  lie  is  going  the  radical 
road  and  I'm  staying  by  the  old  line  whigs  ;  l)ut — 
oh,  tut,  tut,  Katherine  !  let's  not  hamper  the 
boy's  mind  with  our  notions  to  the  extent  of 
forcing  them  on  him.  It  won't  do  a  bit  of  good 
if  we  try  it  either.  That's  not  the  kind  of  a 
mind  Beverly  has  got — and  suppose  it  was,  what 
lio'ht  have  we  to  warp  and  limit  its  action?" 
He  was  turning  over  the  leaves.  "  I've  never 
read  this  myself."  Then  looking  up  suddenly  : 
"  Have  you  ?  " 

''  Xo,  of  course  not  I  But  my  father  forbade 
our  boys  reading  it.  He  said  it  was  a  fearful 
book — intidel "  She  broke  off,  but  stam- 
mered something  about  Beverly's  salvation. 
Griffith  drew  her  down  on  his  knee. 

"  Madam  Kath'rine,"  he  said,  quizzically,  "  if 
I  had  followed  my  father's  conscience  instead  of 
my  own,  I  never  would  have  "—he  was  going 
to  say  seen  her,  but  he  recognized  in  time  that 
that  might  hurt  her  — "  I  never  would  have 
done  a  good   many   things   that  have   seemed 


150  -l-V   rXoFFKIAL  PATUIOT. 

Y\'j\\i  to  nil — ''//''  only  right  tilings  for  my  soul. 
So  long  as  lieverlv  is  open  and  frank  and  true 
to  liinisclf — and  lit'  lias  always  huen  that — I 
niean  to  let  liini  alone.  T  am  sure  lliat  I  found 
a  good  deal  Ix'tter  AA'ay  for  myself  than  my 
father  had  mark(.'d  out  for  me.  Perhaps  De^- 
erl\-  will.  Suppose  \\'e  trust  him.  lie  has  lieen 
surli  a  good  son — su(di  a  frank  fello^v;  don't 
let  us  make  a  pretender  of  him.  Let  him  read 
whal  he  does  optMily.  \  ou  may  he  very  sure  if 
it  looks  Avrong  to  him  he  won't  iraiit  to  he  open 
M'ith  it.  I  don't  want  to  hurt  l^everly  as  my 
hither,  dear  soul,  huil  me — inteUiding  it  fur  my 
own  good,  of  eeuirse  ;  hut — hut — ean't  you  trust 
JJeverly,  Ivallierine '/  I  ean.  And  maj'he,  after 
all,  people  have  not  understood  this  book. 
Leave  it  here.     I  believe  Lll  read  it  myself." 

Katherine  was  astonished,  Init  the  little  talk 
rested  and  helj»ed  her.  That  night  the  book 
was  on  Beverly's  table  again  and  nothing  was 
said  oi  it.  Beverly  had  joined  his  father's 
eliureh  when  lie  was  a  little  fellow,  but  since 
he  entered  eoUege  he  had  seemed  to  take  slight 
interest  in  it.  He  was  always  present  at  family 
prayers,   but  said  uothing   about  liis  religious 


AN   rXOFFIf'IAL  rATlUOT.  ]51 

views  of  late.  A  year  ago  he  liatl  been  repii- 
iiianded,  in  eonipaiiy  witli  otliers,  by  the  h^eal 
preaeher  for  attending-  a  soeial  dance.  That 
night  he  said  to  Roy  :  "■  The  lii'st  time  a  danc- 
ing teacher  comes  to  tliis  town  I  am  going  to 
take  k'ssons.  Look  at  tliose  Lonisville  Ijoys  in 
my  class  and  in  yonrs,  too.  They  are  twice  as 
easy  in  their  manners  as  any  of  the  rest  of  us.  It 
is  their  dancing  that  did  it.     Tliey  tokl  me  so." 

"•  Mr.  Brooks  will  turn  you  out  of  the  church 
if  you  do,"  said  Koy. 

"  Father  wouldn't,"  replied  Beverlj^,  whis- 
tling— ''and  father  is  good  enough  for  me." 

But,  since  there  had  been  no  opportunity  to 
fulfill  the  threat,  the  little  matter  of  the  social 
dance  had  blown  over,  and  Beverly  was  still, 
nominallv,  a  memljer  of  the  ^Methodist  Church. 

The  days  passed.  The  political  crash  was 
upon  the  country.  Men  met  only  to  talk  of 
free-soil  and  slave  extension,  of  union  and 
disunion,  of  repeal,  and  even,  in  some  quarters, 
of  abolition.  Young  men's  blood  boiled.  In 
Legislature  and  Congress  feeling  ran  to  blows. 
The  air  was  thick  and  heavy  with  threats  of — 
no    one    knew    what.     Old    friendships    were 


ir)-2  .l.V   rXOFFIClAL  PATHIOT. 


liroki'ii  ;iii(l  ]u_;\v  ones  .straiiuMl  iiiio  real  (.■iiniily. 
IJrolluTs  todk  (liri'ci't'iit  sides.  l'^tlli(/rs  and 
sons  l)eTanie  l)iUrr.  Xci^'ldior  Ionised  \\-iili  sus- 
])icion  uptin  luML^liltor.  ('olli'i^e  iVateniitK's 
lajised  into  |iiiliiical  clidis.  It  \\;is  now  I>cv- 
erly's  last  }"cai-.  His  favoi'ilc  professor  (]icd. 
rhii'lilli  noti(;ed  tlial  the  l)oy  was  restk-ss  and 
aljstracted.      ( )ne  da\   lie  canic  to  liis  father. 

'' Fallier,'"  lie  said,  a])ni|il]y,  ••  I  <lon"t  feel  as 
if  I  on^lit  to  waste  any  leore  time  at  eolle^-e. 
There  is  a.  treniendoirs  n}iheaval  just  ahead  of 
lis.  Coidd  yon — woidd  \'on  jnst  as  soon  I 
shonhl  ■/ — Tve  L;(>t  an  offer  A\'ith  two  of  the 
other  fellows,  and  I "" 

'Sli.  l)a.\'enport  reeog-nize(l  in  the  l)ov\s  uii- 
usnal  hesitaiiey  of  speeeli  an  linaeeustonied 
(jiiality  of  unrest  and  iiiieertainty.  He  hjoked 
over  his  o-oldd.)o\-\-ed  glasses. 

'•  Why,  A\  hat  is  it,  son  ?  Out  with  it,"  lie 
said,  smiling. 

"  Well,  it"s  like  this:  You  reinemher  vShap- 
leigh,  of  the  ehiss  last  year?  Well,  you  know 
his  father  owns  that  little  free-soil  paper  r»ut  in 
Missouri  that  I  get  every  once  in  a  Avhile.  It's 
democratie,  you  know,  but  free-soil." 


.-l.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  153 

Griflilli  ]io(1(1lm1.  ''  ^'eiy  good  little  papei', 
too.  Don't  fullv  agree  M'itli  those  last  edito- 
rials— too  iieiy — l)iit  a  veiy  dc'ceut  little  sheet." 

Beverly  was  evidently  pleased. 

"Well,  the  old  gentleman  is  tired  of  the 
fight,  and  Sliap  wrote  nie  that  if  Donaldson  and 
I  will  each  pnt  in  •'irl.oOO.  his  fatlier  will  tnrn  the 
paper  over  to  the  three  of  us.  Slia})  knows  liow 
to  run  the  Ijusiness  end  of  the  concern.  Tliat's 
what  he  has  done  since  he  was  gradttated. 
Shap  wants  me  for  political  editor,  mostly. 
He's  a  red-hot  fi'cc-soiler,  and  he  knows  I  am. 
I  sent  him  my  last  two  speeches  and  he  used 
'em  in  the  paper.  He  says  tliey  took  like  wild- 
fire ;  his  constituents  liked  'em  first-class.  You 
know,  I've  always  thotight  I'd  like  to  be  a 
newspaper  man.  Think  so  more  than  ever 
now.  Times  are  so  hot,  and  there  is  such  a  lot 
to  be  said.  The}"  need  new  blood  to  the  front, 
and "' 

Griffith  was  laughing  gently  and  looking 
quizzically,  with  lips  pursed  up,  at  this  ambi- 
tious son  of  his ;  but  the  boy  went  on  : 

"  The  fact  is,  fatlier,  I've  worried  over  it  all 
this  term.     I  hated  to  ask  you  if  you  could  let 


154  AX   UXOrFKIM.   I'ArniOT. 

iiK'  liiive  tlie  moiu'v.  It  is  sucli  a  splfiidid 
cliaiiee — one  nf  a  lilV'tiiUL',  I  tliiiik.  I  do  wish 
you'd  k't  inc."' 

.Vt  last  lie  liad  fallen  into  his  l)oyish  form  of 
Speech,  and  (iril'lilli  laughed  alond. 

*•' Zc/' you  ■/  iy'/yiiu  he  an  e(litor  of  a  fiery 
free-soil  jiaper  out  in  Missoui'i,  hey  ?  U'lie  fel- 
low that  edits  a  |»a[)er  out  thei'e  just  now  ean't 
he  made  out  of  very  meek  stuff.  Uev.  It  won't 
])e  a  nest  of  roses  for  any  tliree  young-  hirds  that 
try  it,  T  iveki^n.  D'ycli  see  that  aeeount  in  the 
G(izi'ih\  yesterday,  of  tlie  mol)  out  there  near 
Kansas  ("ity  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  did  :  and  thal's  tlie  veiy  thing  tliat 
decided  me  to  ask  }'ou  to-day.  Of  course, 
you'd  really  own  tlie  stoek.  It  ^vould  only  he 
in  m^-name  till  I  eould  pay  you  h)r  it,  and "" 

"  Beverly,''  said  his  father,  gravely,  "  if 
3'ou've  made  up  yviw  mind  fully  to  this  thing, 
and  are  sure  you  know  A\hat  you  Avant  and  can 
d(»,  I  ]'eekon  vou  don't  iieed  to  worry  over  the 
money  for  the  stoek.  But  are  you  xure  you 
Avant  to  leave  college  Ijefore  you  llnish  ?  Isn't 
it  a  little  ]^)remature  ?  " 

lie    did    not  hear    his  son's  reply.     It   came 


.LV  UNOFFICIAL  FATIUOT.  155 

suddenly  to  his  iniiid  that  this  bo^-  of  his  Avas 
almost  exactly  the  age  that  he  had  heen  wlien 
he  had  tried  to  argue  his  own  ease  with  tlie  old 
]Major.  It  rushed  into  his  thoughts  how  hard 
it  had  been  to  ap[)roaeh  the  topic  nearest  his 
heart,  and  how  cruelly  it  liad  all  ended.  He 
realized,  as  he  often  did  these  days,  \\o\w  l;)03dsh 
and  immature  he  must  have  seemed  to  his 
father,  and  yet  how  tragically  old  he  had  felt 
to  himself.  He  wondered  if  Beverly  felt  that 
w-ay  now.  He  Ijegan  to  realize  that  the  boy 
was  still  talking,  arguing  and  planning,  al- 
though he  had  not  heard. 

"  Bev,"  he  said,  gently,  using  the  abbrevia- 
tion instinctivel}'  to  make  the  boy  feel  the  ten- 
derness of  his  intent — ''  Bev,  I  don't  intend  to 
aro-ue  this  thine;'  with  vou  at  all.'' 

Beverly  had  misunderstood  his  father's  long 
silence  and  abstraction.  The  remark  confirmed 
his  misconception.  He  arose,  disappointed,  and 
started  for  the  door.  Griilith  reached  out, 
caught  him  by  the  sleeve,  and  pulled  him  into  a 
chair  beside  his  own. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  sometliing,  Bev.  When 
I  was  about  your  age — maybe  a  little  younger— 


15G  .4.Y  rXOFFiriAL  PATIHOT. 

I  iiKule  ;i  re(|uest  of  my  falluT  tliat  it  liad  cost 
me  a  soi'e  trial  to  iiiake  ii[)  mv  mind  to  ask. 
lie — \\\'ll.  lie  didn't  take  it  ]viiid]\',  and — and — 
and  I  left  Lome  in  a-  Iniff  :  not  exactly  a  liui'f, 
either:  l)Ut.  to  tell  the  trntli.  Ave  sueeeeded  in 
Inirtiny  eaeli  oiher  sorely.  And  tlicre  A\"asn"t 
the  least  need  of  it.  It  tuok  us  lioth  a  long- 
time to  get  over  tlie  liurt  of  it.  1  sometimes 
doul)t  if  we  ever  did  get  really  all  over  it.  I 
tell  you,  Beverly,  hoy.  it  M'as  a  sad,  sad  l)lnnder 
all  ai'onnd.  It  darkenei'l  and  dam])ened  mv 
spii'its  for  ]nany  a  day,  and  1  don"t  doulit  it  did 
his.'" 

Oririith  -was  playing  idly  A\ith  a  paperdviiife 
on  the  tal)le  ht'side  him,  and  there  eaiue  a  pause 
and  a  hir-off  look  in  his  eyes. 

''  ( )li.  fatlic]'.  don't  faney  I  feel  that  way — T — 

don't — I    wouldn't   think "  began   Beverly, 

eagerly,  with  a  suspicious  quaver  in  his  voice. 
To  Inde  it,  he  arose  suddenly. 

''Sit  doAA'n,  son,"  said  (iriilith,  smiling  at  the 
boy  and  taking  the  hand  that  rested  on  the 
table.  It  was  cold.  He  dropped  the  paper- 
knife  and  laid  his  other  baud  over  his  son's, 
'■'■  Beverlv,  you  didn't  understand  me,  I  reckon  " 


AN  UXOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  157 


— lie  threw  one  arm  about  the  Ixiy's  shouhlers — 
'-'  I  reekon  3'ou  di(hi"t  understand  nie.  I  meant 
to  say  this  :  I  still  think  ni}-  father  was  wrong. 
Now,  if  I  can  help  it,  I  don't  want  the  time  to 
ever  come,  that  when  you  recall  your  tirst  inde- 
pendent effort  with  me,  you  will  think  that 
of  me.  I'ye  always  intendt-d  to  try  to  remem- 
ber, when  that  time  came,  to  put  myself  in 
your  place,  and  recall  my  own  early  struggles — 
be  nineteen  again  myself.  "We  will  all  hate  to 
haye  you  go  so  far  away.  That  will  be  the 
hardest  part  for  mother  and  for  all  of  us ;  l)ut 
if  you  haye  thought  it  all  oyer  seriously " 

'^  I  haye,  indeed,  father  —  for  months,  and 
months.     It " 

"  Why,  all  there  is  to  do  is  for  me  to  look 
into  the  matter  and  get  that  stock  for  you,  and 
see  how  we  can  make  the  change  as  easy  as  pos- 
sible— as " 

The  boy  was  on  his  feet.  He  was  struggling 
to  hide  his  emotion.  Griffith,  still  holding  his 
hand,  arose.  He  drew  the  boy  toward  him. 
Suddenly  Beverly  understood  his  father's  wish. 
He  threw  both  arms  about  his  neck  and  kissed 
him  as  he  had  not  done  since  he  was  a  little  fel- 


158 


AX  ry OFFICIAL  PATL'IOT. 


low.  Mr.  DuvL'iiporl  held  llie  l_)oy  close  to  his 
breast.  lifVerly  A\"as  tlie  taller  of  the  two.  hut 
the  hilher's  fi)i-rii  had  filled  out  into  portly  pro- 
portions duriny  these  past  years  and  Beverly's 
^vas  veiT  slight. 

'•  There,  there,  there  I  "  exelainied  rxrilTith, 
presently.  Mowing-  a  hlastupon  his  liandkerehief. 
'•'What  are  we  two  precious  lools  crying  over? 
Wasting-  time  I  Wasting  time  I  I>etter  go  tell 
your  mother  all  ahout  it  and  let  her  get  about 
fixing  you  u[)  to  go.  Editor  Davenport!"  he 
exclaimed,  holding  the  ])oy  at  arm's  length. 
'^Well.  well,  well  I  what  next?  Tut,  tut,  tut, 
tut  I  _  I  ex[iect  Iioy  will  l)e  Avanting  to  set  up  a 
law-ohice — (tr  a  boxing  school — in  a  day  or  two." 
Koy's  exploit  witli  his  lists  in  behalf  of  Aunt 
Jitdy  had  always  been  a-  family  joke.  '-But, 
look  here,  Beverly,  I  want  }'ou  to  promise  me 
you  \\'ill  l)e  mighty  careful  to  keep  out  of 
trouljle  out  there.  It's  a  hot  State  just  now. 
The  times  are  scorching,  and — (lod  only  knows 
what's  in  store  for  the  country.  Keep  out  of 
trou])le  and  hasty  ^^'ords,  son.  Bless  me,  but  Fm 
glad  it's  not  Roy!  He'd  be  in  troulile  before  he 
got  his  first  stick  set  up.     They  call  it  a  stick, 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATBIOT.  159 


doirt  tliL-y  ?  ni  luive  to  coach  up  on  journalis- 
tic language  if  I'm  to  liave  an  editor  for  a  son. 
The  proof  of  the  editorials  will  be  in  the  read- 
ing' thereof,"  he  added,  smiling  at  tlie  [»layupon 
the  old  saying.  "  But  I  stipulate  right  now 
that  you  send  nie  every  one  you  write  marked 
in  red,  so  I  won't  have  to  wade  tlirough  all  the 
other  stuff  to  hnd  yours.  If  they're  as  good  as 
that  last  essay  of  yours  at  the  Delta,  Fll  be 
proud  of  you,  my  boy.  Only — only  don't  be 
too  radical !  Young  blood  boils  too  easy. 
Mine  did.  Go  slow  on  this  question,  Bev.  It's 
bigger  than  you  think  it  is.  In  one  form  or 
another  it  has  burdened  my  whole  life,  and  I've 
never  been  able  to  solve  it  yet — for  others,  for 
others.  I  solved  it  for  myself — as  Judy's  pres- 
ence here  proves,"  lie  added,  laughing.  Judy's 
presence  and  her  triumpli  over  the  law  was  a 
family  jest,  and  Roy's  fight  on  her  behalf  not 
wholly  a  memory  of  regret. 

''  He  fit  fur  the  ould  naiger,"  remarked  the 
envious  Rosanna,  from  time  to  time,  "  but  it 
would  be  the  I'ear  of  me  loif,  shure,  before  he'd 
do  the  same,  er  even  so  much  as  jaw  back,  fer 
the  loikes  o'  me !  " 


100  AX  VXOFFJCTAL   P.ITIHOT. 


rTTArT]:ij  xi. 

"  I'll  sland  ns  if  a  iiian  AVi-iv  aiillioi-  of  lihnsclf, 
.Villi  l<iii'\\  no  oihiT  kin.'" 

SlNC'r:  IJi'Vcrly  A\'as  ;i  ^'iroilliail.  and  siiire  it 
was  \\v\\  known  lliat  at  least  (Uie  of  tlic  new" 
owiici's  of  tliv  pajtiT  was  from  ?klassaclnisetts,  it 
was  (lrenic<l  ^vis('  to  lia^'c  Ucvcily  sign  all  of 
liis  t'ditorials  \\lit,'i'c  tlii'V  tondird — as  tliey 
nsnally  did — njion  tlir  I'Vcr-prcseid,  and  ever- 
exi'itiny  to|iie  of  slave  extension.  The  A'oiuig' 
fellows  \\-ere  advised  hy  the  oi'iginal  owner 
that  the  border  people  were  in  no  mood  to 
aecejit  arguments  opposed  to  the  opinions  of  a 
lai-ge  proportion  of  the  property  owners,  if  they 
snppost'd  these  arguments  earne  fi'om  pei'sons  in 
any  A\'av  hostile  to  their  interests — as  all  the 
New  England  people  were  sup[)Osed  to  be. 
But,  he  reasoned,  if  these  arguments  eame 
from  the  pen  of  one  ^\  ho  had  known  the  insti- 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  161 


tution  of  slaveiy  at  its  best  and  had  loved  tlie 
old  order  of  tilings  where  it  was  an  cslahllshed 
histitution  and  where  its  roots  were,  as  even 
Beverly  believed,  in  normal  earth  and  not  to 
be  distnrbed — if  from  his  pen  came  the  protest . 
ao-ainst  its  farther  extension — it  Avas  believed 
the  natives  wonld  accept  it  in  kindness  whether 
they  agreed  with  him  or  not.  Ik^verly  still 
adhered  to  the  old  order  of  things  for  the  old 
states.  He,  like  his  father,  liad  seen  how  hard 
it  was  to  be  rid  of  even  a  small  portion  of  its 
power  and  its  responsibility. 

At  the  end  of  the  second  year  of  his  new 
editorial  work  Ik'verly  had  grown  to  feel  him- 
self qnile  at  home  with  his  duties.  He  had 
made  both  friends  and  enemies.  The  little 
office  had  become  the  town's  center  of  debate  and 
of  political  development.  The  clash  of  interests 
had  come  nearer  and  nearer.  The  country  was 
on  the  eve  of  an  election  excitement  such  as  liad 
never  before  been  known.  Four  parties  were  in 
the  held.  The  election  of  either  of  the  two 
radical  candidates  meant  civil  war  l)eyond  hope 
of  evasion.  :\Iany  still  fondly  hoped  that 
peace  was  yet  possible    if  but  the  compromise 


1(;2  AX   rXOFFKIAL   T'ATmOT. 

eaiididatrs  ^V(_■re  clccttMl.  ^Mr.  Davenport  lield 
teiiacionsly  to  that  ^'i(.'^v.  Urvrrly  came  out 
openly  against  it.  It"  it  ■were  siave(l  (Ai  l)veoni- 
proniise,  lie  iiisistc<l  that  it  Ma^  only  a  matter 
of  time  when  the  inevitalilc  ANoiihl  come.  He 
ar^aicd  that  it  ^\•ouhl  he  l)est  to  meet  and  settle 
the  i.s.sue  onee  and  hir  all. 

'' T  shall  cast  my  first  presidential  hallot  for 
that  Illinois  lawyer  who  iiaycd  Donylas,"  he 
wrote  to  his  father.  "  AVar  is  sinijily  inevitalde 
now,  and  he  is  a.  fearless  and  eleardieaded 
leadei'.  When  the  extension  paity  sees  that 
lie  means  husiness,  and  has  the  mIioIc  Xoiih  and 
AVest  hehind,  him  the  strugL;le  will  the  sooner 
be  over.*"  lint  (irillith  still  hoped  for  peace 
and  a  compromise,  and  declared  his  intention  to 
vote  for  Bell  and  I-herett.  '•  You  are  simply 
throwing-  your  vote  away,"  wrote  Beverly, 
insisteidly,  ''and  after  all  you  have  done  and 
suffered  heeausc  of  this  thing  I  am  sori'v  to  see 
you  do  it.  father.  I'd  rather  see  you  lu'lji  other 
people  to  heep  out  of  the  tii'e  that  scorched  you 
than  to  silenth'  allow  it  to  l)e  lighted  in  the  states 
that  are  now  free — in  the  new  territorial  country 


^.V  UNOFFICIAL   PATUIOT.  1G3 


SO  soon  to  l)e  states.  But  Avliat  business  liave 
I  to  advise  you?  I'm  in  a  position  to  see  it 
better  than  you  are,  is  my  only  excuse.  I  am 
o-oinc^'to  vote  for  Lincoln  and  work  for  him  with 
all  my  strength.  Things  are  alwut  as  hot  as  they 
can  l)e  out  here,  I  can  tell  you.  1  mail  my  last 
editorial  on  the  subject  to-day.  A  good  many 
people  here  don't  half  like  it,  and  Tve  had  to 
buck  up  to  some  pretty  ugly  talk  first  and  last ; 
jji^^t — we  have  to  follow  our  consciences,  don't 
we  ?  That's  mine,  whether  they  like  it  or  not. 
Lots  of  love  to  mother  and  the  boys  and  INLir- 
garet — and  to  Judy,  too.  And  af  you  plaise, 
me  reshpects  t'  Rosanna,  shure  ! 

"  P.  S. — T  forgot  to  say  I'll  have  to  postpone 
that  visit  home  for  a  little  while  yet,  until 
things  settle  down  a  bit.  ^^"e  liave  all  we  can 
possibly  manage  at  the  office  now.  Shap  runs 
the  business  end  of  things  very  well,  does  the 
hiring  and  adv.  work  and  all  that.  Donaldson 
takes  all  the  locals  and  reporting,  and  I've  got 
pretty  much  the  whole  of  the  editing  to  do.  I 
si-rn  only  the  political  ones,  but  I  do  the  other 
stuff  on  that  page  and  the  literary  part  too.  Of 
course  both  of  them  do  some  of  these   things 


1(;4  -l-V   I'XOFFK'IAL   PAIUIOT. 

oiK'c  ill  a  ^\■llil(■ — ;iiitl  if  tlu^v  ^\■alll  to:  luu  I  am 
(IcIu'IhUmI  (111  lor  il  ;  so  ;is  tiiiR's  aiw  1"\('  got  to 
Ix'  lirre  to  iiun/t  ;ill  llicsi'  new  qiic-^tioiis.  Wu 
tallv  '('111  ov(_'r  ai:il  I  wriic  \'!:i  u|».  Il  ki'(.'ps  me 
tit_'(l,  Init  T  lik"c  ii  :  I  rccl^oii  I  was  lioni  j'or  tlu' 
1)iisiiiess.  V/c  arc  ]v;illy  malciii;,;'  great  strides 
for  vouiig.>t('rs.  The  sul>.^(/ri|ll!ol!s  liave  ver\' 
iu.'arl\-  (lonlil(Ml  in  tlie  two  years.  Did  you 
read  tlie  issu(_'  of  tlie  l!4ili  willi  my  lurid  remarks 
oil  '  P>i\'akers  Ahead '/ "  T  l)tdieve  e\ery  ^\■ord 
of  it.  T  don't  l)(dies'e  A\'e  are  going  to  \\\\\\ 
tliroiigli  A\'it]ioiit  ;i  toiieii  of  gunpowder.  I  don't 
intend  to  ligiit  myself,  if  T  can  ]i(d[)  il — l)ut  I 
shall  shoot  M'ilh  ink  just  as  L)ng  and  as  strong  as 
I  eaii.  T  helie\'e  my  postscript  is  ;i  good  deal 
longer  than  my  teller;  l.ut  sometimes  our  after- 
thoiighls  have  more  in  'em  than  the  originals,  so 
Avhy  not  add  "em?  I  forgot,  too.  in  my  gassing 
about  myself,  to  say  how  glad  I  am  that  Koy  is 
doing  so  ^^'ell  at  college  now.  T  shall  sui'cly  tiy 
to  get  home  to  his  graduation  in  June  next,  for  I 
Lope  after  Lincoln  is  once  isi  the  White  House 
(and  you  see  I  assume  he  is  going  to  get  there), 
that  it  M'on't  take  long  to  settle  matters  dowu. 
I  think  I)}'  next  June  I  can  surely  come  home 


AX  IWOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  105 

for  a  good  visit.  I  doul)t,  though,  if  we  do 
have  a  phxce  for  Roy  to  take  even  tlien.  All 
the  places  we  have  to  give  are  rather — well, 
they  are  not  in  his  line  and  the  pay  is  small. 
The  salary  list  looks  [)retty  big  to  us  on  pay- 
day, but  I  reckon  it  looks  slim  enough  to  each 
one  of  the  men  who  gets  his  little  envelope. 
Now,  I  believe  that  is  really  all  I  overlooked 
replying  to  in  your  last  :  only,  once  more,  father, 
do  vote  for  Lincoln  and  don't  throw  yourself  away 
on  that  tinkling  little  Bell.  His  chances  are 
hopeless  ;  and  if  they  were  not,  then  the  country's 
chances  would  be.  ^Nlight  as  well  just  put 
little  r^Iargaret  at  the  helm  of  a  sliip.  No 
matter  how  hard  she'd  pull,  or  how  sweetly 
she'd  smile  or  how  hard  she'd  coax,  the  ship 
would  miss  the  iirm  grip  needed  to  steer  clear 
of  the  breakers.  There  are  breakers  ahead! 
Lincoln  is  our  only  hope  for  an  undivided 
country  and  the  limitation,  once  and  for  all,  of 
the    extension    of   slavery — sure,  sure.     Again, 

love  to  all, 

"  Beverly. 

"  X.  B. — I  don't  often  read  my  letters  over,  but 
if  I  hadn't  read  this  one  I  shouldn't  be  so  cer- 


IGG  -l.V   rXOFFICIAL   IWTUIOT. 

tiiiii  as  I  am  now  that  if  T  were  my  own  father 
and  slionhl  receive  this  eock-snrc  [liece  of  advice 
from  mv  ehlest  liopeful,  IM — \\(dl,  IM  tan  liim 
well,  verhally.  IJut  since  I  have  the  g'ood  luck 
to  he  the  eldest  of  the  r^'/y/ hest  and  most  con- 
siderate hither  in  this  wide  world,  J  don't  expect 
anything'  of  the  hind  to  happen  to  me  ;  hut  if  it 
does,  ril  swallow  it  like  a  little  man — and  take 
my  reveng'e  (in  a  scorching-  editorial)  on  some 
other  fellow's  father  who  votes  for  Uell. 

-  .Aleekly, 

IMr.  Davenport — as  was  liis  liahit — read  tlie 
letter  aloud  to  the  family,  hut  he  smiled  anx- 
iously at  Hoy's  merry  comments. 

"' Beverly  is  in  a  had  })lace  to  he  reckless  with 
his  English,  just  now.  That  editorial  on 
Breakers  Ahead  seemed  to  me  to  go  a  good  deal 
too  far.  Fm  glad  he  says  he  will  not  fight  if 
there  shotdd  he  a  war— which  Clod  forbid." 

''I  woidd,  then  I  "  remarked  Boy.  "I'd  get 
up  a  eom[)any  right  here  in  college.  Lots  of 
the  l)ovs  declare  they'd  go." 

Mr.  Davenport  looked  at  his  son  over  his  gold- 


.l.V  UNOFFICIAL  FATRIOT.  107 

bowed  glasses.  There  was  a  suspicious  twinkle 
in  his  eyes  and  a  twitching  of  the  lips.  There 
was  a  long  pause  before  he  spoke.  This  son  of 
his  had  always  seemed  to  Griffith  younger  than 
he  was. 

"  How  old  are  you,  Roy  ? "  he  asked  in  a 
spirit  of  fun.  "•  You'd  make  a  tremendous  sol- 
dier, now,  wouldn't  you  ? — just  out  of  short 
clothes  ?  " 

"  I'm  older  than  Bev.  was  when  he  left  college. 
I'm  twenty.  Young  men  make  the  best  soldiers 
anyhow.  I  heard  Governor  Morton  tell  you 
that  the  last  time  he  was  here,  and  besides " 

"  Tut,  tut,  tut,  boy,  you  attend  to  your  les- 
sons !  Twenty !  Is  that  so,  Katherine  ?  Is 
Roy  twenty  ?  " 

Griffith  took  his  glasses  in  his  hand  and  held 
them  as  if  he  were  trying  to  magnify  the  boy  in 
order  to  see  him,  and  with  his  other  hand 
tweaked  his  upper  lip  as  if  searching  for  a 
mustache.  Roy  accepted  the  joke  and  stretched 
himself  up  to  his  tallest,  and  from  his  inch  of 
advantage  over  his  father  he  put  down  a  patron- 
izing hand  on  Griffith's  head  and  said,  "  Bless 
you,  my  children,  bless  you."     Griffith  changed 


16S  AX  rXOFFICTAL  PATIHOT. 


the  (linx'tiou  of  his  j^-lasscs  ;uh1  se.irelie'l  tlie 
CL'iliiiLi'  \\'n\\  tliat  !_;'ralirKMl  smile  fatliers  Inive 
wliiMi  tlu/y  n'ali/.c  tlial  a  son  re'all\'  (■xcccmIs  tliem 
ill  aiivtliinc;-.  Kallicriiic  was  laULjIiiiiL;' at  tlic  by- 
play of  the-  two.  Siiddciih  (Jriflilli  turiKMl  to 
his  youngest  son  :  •■  llowanl.  how  old  are  vou  ? 
I  suppose  you  will  \'ote  this  time,  and  go  to  war 
and  do  no  end  of  great  and  rash  things." 

''  No,  T"ll  stay  at  liome  and  nurse  the  hal)y. 
That's  the  kind  of  a,  fellow  T  am,""  lluiig  ])aek 
this  petulant  one.  and  the  (h)nr  hanged  hehind 
him. 

'' Dou"t  tease  Wai'(h""  said  Katln'rine.  "  llis 
tom[)er  seems  to  grow  faster  than  he  (hies  just 
tliese  last  t\\"o  years,  and "" 

''  Ilighty-tighty  :  lle"d  better  take  a  reef  in 
it.  If  rd  heliave(l  thai  wav  ^vitll  mv  father  lie 
would  have  preserlhetl  a  little  hiekoiy  oil.  How 
ohl  Is  Howard?  Fourteen?  Growing  too  fast 
l.>v  half — hut  liis  temper  does  seem  to  keep  up 
with  the  rest  of  him.  I  must  say.  Cro  and  hiteli 
up  tlie  eentitry  })laiit.  Ivoy.  I  want  to  drive 
oitt  to  the  farm.  Want  to  go"htng?  Don't. 
AVell,  do  you,  KatlTrine  ?  Xo  ?  Well,  then  I 
cTuess  I'll  have  to  take  .Marq-aret.     She  won't  e:o 


^l.Y  IWOFFiriAL  PATIUOT.  169 


l);ifk  on  me  like  that.  It'll  do  lier  good  and  she 
can  pla}-  AA'ith  those  tvv'o  peewees  of  Miller's, 
while  he  and  I  look  over  the  stock  and  drive 
about  the  place  a  little.  Fan's  colt  was  lame  the 
last  time  I  was  out.  I  don't  helieve  the  straw- 
berry patch  is  going-  to  do  well  this  year,  either. 
Did  I  tell  you  what  a  fine  fat  calf  the  brindle's 
is?  You'd  laugh  to  see  it.  It  winks  at  joii 
exactly  as  if  it  understood  a  joke.'' 

Tlie  old  phaeton — otherwise  tlie  "  century 
plant  " — dashed  up  to  the  door.  The  combina- 
tion was  especially  incongi'uous.  Hitched  to  it 
was  a  great,  gray,  fiery  Araljian  stallion.  The 
one-time  circuit  rider  had  not  lost  his  love  for  a 
good  horse,  and  liis  little  stock  farm  on  the  out- 
skirts of  tlie  town  Avas  the  joy  of  his  life.  He 
sadly  missed  the  l)eautiful  vallc}*  of  his  youth, 
but  at  least  these  fields  were  his.  No  blue 
mountains  loomed  up  in  the  distance,  but  the 
beech  and  maple  trees  were  luxuriant.  ]\Iount- 
ain  stream  and  narrow  pass  there  were  not,  but 
a  pebbly  brook,  in  A^hich  Avere  miiniows,  ran 
througlrthe  strip  of  woods,  and  Griffith  still 
enjoyed  the  comradeship  of  bird  and  beast  and 
fish.     He  had  named  the  stallion  Selim,  after 


170 


.l.V  rXOFFICIAL   PATinoT. 


tlie  loVL'.  of  ]iis  Adiitli.  ami  iio  (Hic  (Lux'il  drive 
liiin  l)ut  liiniself.  lie  todlc  ii[i  llie  liin's  and 
called  l)acl<  In  Roy  as  Selim  daslied  off,  '•  Til 
leave  Selim  ami  bi-iiiy  I'^aiinit'  in.  .•^o  your  niotlit-r 
and  vou  can  diive  to-nioirow.  live,  Howard! 
r>(!  a  yood  lioy!""  lie  (.-ailed,  as  lie  eauyht  a 
o'linipse.  of  tlic  l)i>vat  llie  corner  of  tlie  house. 
'•  So"ll  the  devil  l»e  a  L;()od  boy  I  Just  wait 
till  that  war  comes  I  Tlicy'll  see  !  ""  lie  yrow  led, 
as  the  ''  century  plant  "'  dlsa|i[ica]'ed.  Idiei'e 
floated  hacic  on  the  air.  "Joy  to  the  world,  te, 
te,  tum,  tum.  Yea,  yea,  there,  Selim  !  AVhoa  I 
Yea  I  yea  !  Let  eailh  receive  her  KiiiL,''  !  Te.  te, 
turn.""  The  '•  centniy  plant ""  and  Selim  disap- 
})eared  around  the  ciU'iier,  and  the  life  and  di-um 
corps  ^^  Inch  had  stanled  the  horse,  dro\\"iied  all 
othei'  sounds,  and  for  I  h>-\\  ard,  all  other  tiiouL;hts. 
He  did  not  sto[)  to  reach  the  g'ate.  lie  vaulted 
over  the  fence  and  joined  llie  procession  and  the 
refrain  of  the  school-hoys  -who  j^ave  'words  to  the 
mttsic — "on  \i  i-ail  I  .\nd  ^\•e'll  ride  old  Abe, 
and  we'll  ri<le  old  Abe,  and  we"ll  ride  him  to 
the  White  House  on  a  rail!"  The  boy  dioppcfl 
into  the  step  and  the  rhythm  with  a  will.  He 
foro'ot  to  lie  sullen. 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATEIOT.  171 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"The  shears  of  destiny."' — SItakt'>i2)eare. 

Wak  I  war  I  Avai- 1  Tlie  great  election  was 
over.  The  bitterness  of  faelion  and  of  section 
liad  only  intensified.  The  iiievital)le  had  at  last 
come.  ]\Iol)s,  riots,  and  confusion  follo\yed 
threats,  and  at  last  the  sliot  that  struck  Fort 
Sumter  echoed  in  ever}-  Tillage  and  hamlet  in 
the  country.  The  beginning  of  the  struggle  Avith 
arms  to  adjust  the  differences  between  two  irre- 
concilable doctrines — two  antagonistic  social  and 
economic  policies  —  had  culminated.  The  adjust- 
ment must,  indeed,  now  come.  "  Seventy-five 
thousand  troops  for  three  months  I "  The  Presi- 
dent's call  rang  out,  and  almost  before  the  echo 
died  away  the  quota  was  full.  The  young,  the 
,  adventurous,  and  the  hot-headed,  supplemented 
the  patriotic  and  sprang  into  line.  To  these  it 
was  to  be  a  three  months'  camping-out  lark.     Of 


172 


.LA'  rXOFFK'lAL  PATRIOT. 


foursc  tlic  Sdutli  Avould  l)ack  d()\vn  at  the  sliuw 
(if  annril  strL'iiL;'tli  and  linn  resistance  to  dis- 
union. Tlie  martial  spirit,  tlie  llylitiiiL;'  instinct 
inliereid  in  tlie  race— that  leyacy  from  ourl)rnte 
aiieesti'v — was  faiiiird  inlo  ilame  like  lii'e  in  a. 
summer  \\'ind.  ('i)l]e^e  classes  were  de[»leled. 
^'ouul;'  lads  hastened  to  I'oi'ce  themsrh'cs  iido 
tlie  I'anks.  Drum  and  lite  and  1)Ul;'1(_'  soundeil  in 
every  street.  IvcKoy  l)a\en[)ort  was  one  of  the 
lirst  to  eidist.  d'iie  comiiany  of  collc'^'i'  lioys 
elected  liim  their  second  licutiMianl,  and  tliey 
left  at  once  fur  ("amp  MditoiL  to  he  ready  to 
mai'cli  to  the  front  at  tlie  lirst  order  for  troops 
fi'om  the  ^^'est.  He  looked  very  line  and  sol- 
dierly and  handsome  in  liis  uniform,  and  with  the 
straps  upon  his  shoulders.  IJeverly  wroti;  that 
lie  should  stick  t(»  his  editorial  chair.  lie  slept 
in  the  office,  to  he  ready  to  receive  and  v/rite 
up  every  scrap  of  ne\ys  the  moment  it  caane. 
lie  M'rote  a  series  of  llery  editorials,  denouncing" 
the  "outrage  on  the  Hag  at  Foil  Sumter."'  An 
anonymous  letter  was  pushed  under  his  olTice- 
door  wai'uing  him  to  desist.  lie  puhlished  the 
letter  and  a[i[)cnded  to  it  a  more  vigorous  ai-titdo 
than  before.     That  night,  as  he  lay  on  the  bed 


^i:\^  UNOFFICIAL   PATIUOr.  173 

ill  the  little  baek  room  of  the  office,  he  thonglit 
he  detected  a  strange  odor.  He  went  softly  to 
the  window  and  looked  out.  The  moon  was 
just  rising  on  the  river.  His  little  row-boat,  in 
Avliieli  liis  iisliing-  and  pleasure  trips  were  taken, 
LoLbed  idly  up  and  do\\"n  on  the  Avaves  just 
under  tlie  corner  of  the  building.  The  strange 
odor  grew  stronger  and  more  distinct  in  char- 
acter. He  began  to  suspect  that  he  understood 
it.  He  opened  the  door  into  the  front  room  and 
passed  on  to  the  compositors'  room.  He  was 
sure  now  that  it  was  the  smell  of  smoke  and  oil- 
soaked  clotli.  His  first  impulse  was  to  open  the 
front  door  and  shout  lire,  l)ut  he  renieraljered 
Lovejoy's  fate  and  paused.  He  stepped  to  tlie 
front  window  and  turned  the  old  slats  of  the 
heavy  green  blinds  so  that  lie  could  see  out  into 
the  narrow  street.  There  were  three  forms 
crouching  near  the  door.  He  thought  he  saw 
the  gleam  of  steel.  Flames  had  begun  to  creep 
under  the  door  and  from  the  compositors'  room. 
Suddenl}'  the  flimsy  pine  partition  burst  into  a 
sheet  of  flame.  He  knew  that  to  open  the  front 
door  was  to  meet  death  at  the  hands  of  desper- 
adoes.    He   caught  up  the  only  implement  of 


174  AX  rXOFFICIAL   PAnUOT. 

defense  lie  saw — a  })air  of  givat.  sharp,  cli|ipiiig- 
sliears,  and  start(Ml  for  tlie  door.  He  iutiMided, 
at  least,  to  mark  Ins  man  so  that  ollici's  could 
deal  with  hhu  aftui'ward.  Suddtady  he  remem- 
l)ered  that  he  eonld  di'op  fnmi  the  haek  window 
into  the  river.  Ifilicyhad  not  taken  his  oars 
he  could  es('a|ii'.  Thr  room  was  as  light  as  day 
now,  and  he  knew  that  to  hesitate  was  to  he  lost. 
He  droppeil  the  (an-ious  \\ra}ioii  he  had  iii  his 
hand,  and  ran  to  t!ie  hark  room.  Tlie  oidy  rope 
there  \\as  tlu'  support  of  tlu/  old-tashioiiL'd  hed. 
He  hastily  unw(UUid  it  and  fastencil  it  to  the 
hed-post  nearest  the  window.  He  wanted  to 
make  the  dro[i  as  .short  as  possil)le,  lest  the 
splash  of  the  A\-at(_'r  attraet  the  men  from  the 
front  of  the  house.  He  smiled  ^^  hen  he  elindjed 
into  the  hoat  and  found  the  oars  safely  in  its  l)ot- 
torin  In  an  instant  he  was  pulling  gently,  softly, 
slowly  out  into  the  stream.  lie  could  almost 
hear  the  heating  of  his  own  heart.  Then  in  the 
moonlight  a  shot  rang  out  on  the  clear  air,  and 
a  shar[)  crack,  as  the  hall  struck  the  side  of  the 
hoat,  told  him  that  he  was  discovered.  Xo  need 
for  caution  now  I  Need  only  for  haste  and 
strength  I     He  pulled  with  all  his  young  vigor 


AN  rXOFFICIAL  rATEIOT.  175 


witli  tlie  stroke  of  an  accustomed  luiiiJ.     The 

sky  Avas  livid  with  the  flames  from  liis  Inirning 
office— the  dream  and  hope  of  his  lirst  manhood 
was  melting  before  his  eyes.  "  God  damn  "em  I  " 
he  said,  between  his  set  teeth,  as  two  more  shots 
followed  him,  '■  they  won't  dare  stay  longer  now 
—and  I'm  out  of  range.  God  damn  'em  !  "  He 
let  the  oars  fall  l)y  his  side.  He  could  see  num- 
bers of  men  running  about  now,  shouting,  swear- 
ing, vainly  trying  to  check  the  flames.  Some 
one  yelled,  "  Shoot  again,  he's  in  that  skiff !  " 

He  heard  and  understood  that  the  victim 
was  being  made  out  the  culprit.  The  would-be 
assassins  were  covering  retreat.  He  de- 
cided that  it  would  not  be  safe  to  pull  back 
to  the  Missouri  side  just  then.  He  would 
land  on  the  Kansas  shore.  iMorning  found  him 
near  a  small  village.  He  landed  and  made  his 
way  directly  to  the  newspaper  office.  It  was 
one  of  his  own  exchanges,  and  a  free-soil  paper 
like  his.  He  told  his  story,  and  the  editor  made 
a  lurid  article  out  of  it  and  called  for  his  towns- 
men to  gather  in  a  public  meeting.  He  issued 
an  extra,  and  Beverly  was  tlie  hero  of  the  hour. 
Rough  froutiersmen— some  of  whom  had  seen 


17G  AX  UyOFFKIAL  PATRIOT. 

liis  ]);i[icr — loolvrd  at  the  sk'iidrr  strl|iliiin'  and 
voluiili'crt/d  tn  cross  tlic  river  ami  "  clean  out 
the  town."'  'idiey  calleil  on  l>evei'ly  for  a 
Npeecli.  d'liey  ^vere  l)ent  n[)on  nial^inL;'  liini  a 
leader.  'Y\w  war  fever  was  in  tlit_:  frontier 
Mood.  lie  lie^'an  his  s[)eeeh  in  a  passion  t)f 
personal  feelin;^',  hnl  ended*  in  an  a[)peal  for 
volunteers,  '•  not  tc)  liyht  niji  Ijattle,  ne)t  to 
avenge  niv  wron;^',  not  to  ivpair  nry  hsss,  hut  to 
hn'ht  this  great  hatlle  foi'  lilierty  and  freedom 
in  the  great  northwest  !  It  seems  m-c  Avill 
have  to  light  for  the  fi-eedom  of  speech  and 
})ress,  as  well  as  for  free  soil  !  I  Avill  l)e  frank: 
I  had  not  intendcfl  to  enlist  in  this  war.  I  had 
lioped  to  do  more  good  l)y  argument  than  I 
couhl  hope  to  do  1)V  arms.  I  had  ho[)ed  to  see 
the  end  of  it  at  the  end  of  tlie  three  montlis 
for  which  the  President  called  for  troops  ;  but 
I  do  not  stand  on  tliat  ground  ■.xny  longer. 
Yesterdav.  as  you  all  know,  there  was  issued  a 
new  call  for  five  hundred  thousand  more  men  I 
I  want,  iKTw,  to  Ix'  one  of  the  first  of  those,  and 
I  shall  enlist  for  three  years  or  for  ten  years  or 
as  long  as  this  war  lasts  ;  and  I  don't  want  to 
come  out  of  it  alive  if  I  liave  got  to  come  out 


,-i.y  rxoFFiciAL  rATiuor. 


into  a  country  Avhere  free  .speech  is  tlu'ottled 
and  a  free  2)ress  burned  up  I  I  shall  enlist,  I 
tell  you,  and  since  I  had  to  fly  to  Kansas  for 
protection,  I  hope  that  Kansas  will  eru'oll  me  as 
Jter  son,  and  if  -it  may  be,  as  her  very  first 
volunteer ! " 

The  idea  took  the  fancy  of  his  listeners. 
"  Raise  a  regiment !  "'  '^  I'll  go  with  you  I  " 
"•  Three  cheers  for  the  editor  !  " 

They  were  given  with  a  will,  and  the  enthu- 
siasm for  himself  put  a  new  idea  into  liis  head. 

'^I  am  only  twenty-three  years  old,"  he  said 
laugliing,  "  and  not  much  bigger  than  the  right 
arm  of  some  of  you  great,  fine,  muscular  fellows  ; 
but  if  you  are  willing  to  trust  me,  I  would  ask 
nothing  better  than  to  take  the  lead  of  such  a 
body  of  men.  If  enough  of  you  will  enlist  here 
and  now,  Til  go  with  you  as  private  or  as 
captain.  I'll  take  the  lead  and  the  responsibility, 
or  I'll  follow  any  better  qualified  man  you  may 
name,  and  we'll  go  up  to  the  capital  and  offer 
ourselves  as  the  first  Kansas  volunteers  for  this 


war 


.  T  •' 


Almost   before    he    had    spoken   the   words 

cheer   after  cheer  rent  the  air.     Men  signified 
12 


178  AX  rx OFFICIAL   PATIHOT. 

their  willingness  to  enlist,  and  l»ef()r(3  night  on 
tlie  first  day  he  hail  spent  on  Kansas  soil  he 
found  himself  marehing  to\vard  the'  ea[iital  at 
the  licad  of  one  hnndred  delennineil.  rmigh. 
strong-,  fearless  frontiersuien  to  ask  for  a  eont- 
inission  as  their  eaptain,  and  for  arms  and  ammti- 
iiition  for  his  men. 

]Mr.  Da^'enport  was  surprised  that  day  to  re- 
ceive this  dispateh  : 

"Am  elected  Captain.  Company  A.  First 
Kansas  Vols.     Will  write. 

''  Beverly." 

Tliev  cottld  ]iot  imagine  at  home  why  Bev- 
erley shottld  be  in  a  Kansas  eom[)any,  btit  when 
the  Gazrtfe  came  that  night  ^\  ith  an  aeeottnt  of 
the  httriung  of  the  ol)settre  newspaper-cdhce  out 
in  ^lissottri,  the}'  understood,  and  Katherine  felt 
faint  and  siek  when  she  realized  that  t\\o  of  her 
boys  had  gone  to  fight  against  her  people.  She 
knew  that  her  own  brothers  and  nephews  wottld 
all  be  on  the  other  side,  and  that  Gritfith's  were 
tliere  too.  Griifith  had  gone  with  Boy's  com- 
pany to  Camp  ^Morton  and  had  sorroAvfitlly  coU' 


AX  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  179 

sented  to  liis  enlistment ;  luit  if  war  there  must 
be  and  if  liis  son  must  go,  Griffith  felt  that  he 
was  on  the  right  side.  lie  held  hack,  himself, 
fi'om  the  idea  that  fighting  was  necessary,  even 
yet.  At  the  very  worst,  it  would  all  he  over 
very  soon,  he  thought,  and  he  hoped  and  l)elieved 
that  a  few  demonstrations  of  determination  on 
the  part  of  the  Government  would  undoubtedly 
settle  the  matter  without  any  real  or  serious  fight- 
ing. He  was  unalterably  opposed  to  a  division  of 
the  Union,  and  he  believed  that  the  South  would 
see  its  mistake  on  that  question  and  reconsider 
it.  But  as  State  after  State  seceded,  his  perplex- 
ity deepened.  lie  and  Katherine  had  all  these 
years  kept  up  a  fond  and  constant  correspondence 
with  the  old  liome  friends  and  kinsmen,  several 
of  whom,  from  time  to  time,  had  visited  them. 
All  these  had  felt  that  Griffith  had  made  a 
grievous  mistake  in  following  the  course  he  had 
taken,  but  until  now  no  real  bitterness  had  result- 
ed. Now,  all  letters  ceased.  They  liad  heard, 
somehow,  in  the  old  home,  that  Griffitli's  sons 
had  enlisted  in  the  Union  army — to  fight  against 
them!  That  was  more  than  they  could  bear. 
Even   before   the   line   of   coramunicatiou  was 


ISO 


J.V    rXOFFICIAL   I'AlinoT. 


fiiiallv  cLisrd  ai^'uiiist  li'ltcrs.  tlieirs  liad  ceased 
to  eoiiie — :iiid  Kalliuiiiit'  understood.  Many  a 
uiylit  slie  S()l)l)('d  liiTsrlf  to  sleep. 

"  How  tciTiblc  tliis  all  is.  (  uil'litli  :  ITow  ter- 
rible I  Wliy  should  tlicy  fi-'ld  over  it '/  Wliy 
don't  tlir\-  1  •(  ilie  slave  states  l;'o.  if  tliey  want 
to,  and  l)c  one  L;(i\'erninent.  ami  the  olhers  1)l'  free 
stales  and,  anoilier  ^o^■ernnlelit — as  Canada  and 
we  are,  oi-  a>  Mexieo  and  we  ? 

(iririilh  had  D'ied  to  e\'[>lain  the  diriieulties 
and  the  ine\ital)le  elasliiny  of  inlei'esis  that 
would  he  foiever  resultini^- — the  t'onstant  and 
eternal  elashing-.  lie  pointed  out  that  no 
C0untl■^■  would  allow  itself  t(J  he  di\'ided.  Tie 
read  to  her  long-  arg-unients  in  sup})0rt  of  the 
maintenanee  of    the  Cnion  :  hut  she  sai<l: 

••Yes,  I  see  it  is  desirahle  if  all  want  it  so  ; 
httt  if  the\"  do  /i'>t,  why — why — I  ^\■ouldn"t  fight 
to  eoni[Kd  them  to  sta\'  with  me  if  they  want  to 
go.  You  ne\er  do  that  \\"ay  \\  ith  your  ehildre]!, 
(TrilTitli.  \o{\  kno\v  vou  don't.  You  neverdid  try 
to  eonijuer  one  of  them  and  force  him  to  think 
3-our  waj'.  You  alwavs  felt  that  way  al)Out  free- 
ing the  slaves,  too.  You  said  you  did  not  judge 
for  other  people — only  for  y<jurself,     And  when 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  181 


you  SciAV  how  teiTil)ly  hard  it  was  to  do  it,  and 
that  most  people  coidd  not  do  as  you  did  even  if 
they  Avanted  to— you  always  said  that  you  did 
not  blame  them  in  the  least." 

"  I  say  so  yet.  I  know  all  that ;  Init  govern- 
ments are  very  different.  Some  one  has  got  to 
decide  for  others.  If  they  didn't,  everything 
would  go  to  smash  in  very  short  order.  I  sup- 
pose I  am  a  good  deal  of  a  coward.  I  can't  bear 
to  judge  for  other  peo})le.  But  I  do  believe  in 
maintaining  this  government  at  any  and  all  cost 

but  I'd  leave   slavery  alone   in  the  South.     I 

wouldn't  let  it  spread.  That  is  Lincoln's  policy 
now.  He  said  so  in  his  message— his  inaugural. 
If  it  will  stay  where  it  is,  he  says  he  won't 
disturb  it — and    that  suits  me  ;  but  if   it   will 

not " 

"  Well,  it  won't,"  put  in  Howard.  "  I  heard 
Governor  ]\Iorton  say  so  in  his  speech  last  night. 
He  said  that  this  fight  had  all  along  been  really 
to  extend  and  not  to  retain  slavery,  and  when  that 
was  lost  then  the  South  proposed  to  smash  the 
Union.  That's  exactly  what  he  said ;  but,  '  We'll 
rally  round  the  flag,  boys,  we'll  rally  once  again,' " 
he  sang,  and  banged  the  door  behind  him. 


18li  AX  rXOFFICIAL  PATUIOT. 


That  nii^lit  Hnward  (lisa}i|ieai'e(l.  Tie  liad  iiin 
awav.  sworn  thai  he  was  I'iy'htceii  years  oM  and 
enlisted  under  another  name,  as  a  ;^-nnner  in  a 
l)atterv  I  It  was  ten  days  l)efore  a  traee  of  liim 
was  found.  Idien  he  Avas  on  liis  A\'ay  to  the 
front  A\"henee  news  liad  come  thick  and  fast  of 
skirniislies.  battles  and  ti'emendous  preparations 
for  a  terrihle  and  Idoody  strug^gde.  Excitement 
was  at  fever  heat.  The  streets  were  crowded 
Avitli  soldiers  and  echoed  ^^■ith  martial  music 
nig'ht  and  day.  War,  indeed,  was  itpon  them, 
and  fair  July  A\as  here. 


.-l.Y  UNOFFICIAL  PATIilOT.  183 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    OTHER    SIDE    OF    WAR. 

Ix  ■Washington,  on  the  twentieth  of  July, 
18t]l,  expectation  ran  higli.  A  decisive,  and 
it  was  hoped  a  Ihial  blow  was  to  be  struck  on 
the  following-  day.  Large  numbers  of  troops 
had  passed  through  the  city  and  been  massed 
thirty  miles  away.  A  great  battle  was  innni- 
nent.  Botli  armies  had  recently  ^^'ou  small 
victories.  Both  were  jubilant.  For  the  most 
part  the  soldiers  in  these  two  opposing  camps 
were  raw  recruits.  They  sang  and  joked  and 
played  tricks  on  each  other.  To  both,  war  was 
a  mere  name  yet,  a  painted  glory,  a  sabred, 
gold-laced  parade  before  admiring,  cheering 
crowds.  The  Confederates  knew  every  step  of 
the  ground.  To  their  opponents  it  was  an  un- 
known land  into  which  they  had  been  marched ; 
rucffed,  broken  country,  the  like  of  which  the 
most  of  them  had  never  before  seen.     Raw  and 


1S4  AX  rXOFFJCIAL  I'ATHIOT. 


iuiIi-'umI  tlicy  weiv  on  bolli  sidi's,  Iml  llie  luck  of 
kiio\\](Ml_'_;('  (if  tilt'  to[)OL;-i'a])li\' — iif  tln'  location  of 
pass  and  (IffilL',  of  ford  and  of  sti'i'aiii — g'ave  to  the 
Uiuoii  troops  (  wIk.'ii  i1i('\-  liad  dci^-iit'd  to  think 
of  it  at  all)  a  ccrlain  fiMdiiin"  "I"  insccurit  \'  and 
uneasinrss.  Still  no  one  d(»nl)tcd  for  a  nioiiiciit 
tliL'  on.tcomc.  'Idif  haitli'  ^\'onld  he  fon^ht  and 
"Won,  and  L;lory  wonld  lir  cai'riiMl  hdnif  on  cvL'rv 
Union  hayoiict.  ('iviliaiis  dio\'r  ont  to  canij) 
from  the  city,  and  from  distant  hilltops  were 
])ri'parcd  to  ^\■itlu•ss  the  hat  lie.  A  martial  dis- 
play like  this  may  not  lie  seen  Ihrongh  fudd- 
!4'hiss(_'s  ('\-(M'y  day.  I'^arly  in  thr  day  cannonad- 
ing had  hcen  heard,.  Moie  citizens  stai'ted  for 
the  scene  of  action.  Idici'e  N\-ei'e  intervals  of 
comparatiw  silence,  and  then  again  the  hoom  of 
cannon  and  the  rattle  of  muskets  told  the 
distaid  audience  that  hostilities  were  on — that 
neitlier  side  had  hnally  yielded.  Later  a 
niind»er  of  citizens  drove  furiouslv  aci'oss  the 
Lony  Ui'idL'X'  Avith  the  news  that  the  Xortheru 
troops  Avere  retreating-  toward  the  city.  Idieu 
word  caniL'  that  they  had  rallied,  l)ut  citizens 
deserted  their  })osts  of  ol),serYation  and  rode 
rapidly     toward    town.       They    reported    the 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  iSfi 

Soutlieru  troops  as  figliling-  liL'rL't4y,  but  it  -wa-; 
tlioug-lit  they  "were  about  to  yield.  Tlicy  could 
not  liold  out  much  long-er  against  the  murderous 
fire  of  the  Union  men.  Suddenly  a  flying 
horseman  Avilh  livid  face  and  white  lips  sped 
through  the  streets.  It  was  a  messenger  from 
the  front!  He  was  making  straight  to  the 
White  House  !  The  Xorthern  troops  Avere  in 
full  retreat  I  People  looked  at  each  other  in 
dismay.  Suivly  they  would  rally  !  They 
Avould  nt)t  come  to  the  city  I  They  were  only 
falling  back  !  The}-  would  tV)rm  and  attack 
ao-ain  !  People  told  each  other  these  things 
and  turned  pale.  The  streets  1)egan  to  be  filled 
with  returning  civilians.  No  one  stopped. 
Every  one  pusliedon  toward  liome  or  to  the  Cap- 
itol. Another  foam-flecked  horse  dashed  in. 
The  rider  had  on  a  uniform,  dirty,  begrimed  and 
wet. 

"  The  Xorthern  troops  have  broken  ranks ! 
They  are  fleeing,  horse  and  foot,  in  one  mass  of 
disorganized  panic-stricken  humanity,  pursued 
by  a  murderous  fire  from  a  jubilant,  victory- 
intoxicated  enemy !  The  officers  could  not 
rally   them !     It   is    a   panic ! "      No    need    to 


ISO  AX   rXOFFTCIAL   PATHTOT. 

(jllrslioM  llif  fuels.  I,<)(^k  at  llic  distant  liills. 
Walcli  till'  ai)|ii(iacli(.'s.  See  tlie  sneeessidii  of 
(lispaleli  lieareis  ily  jiast  to  ilie  Wliite  I Imise  ! 
"'It  is  (Uily  a  reireal  !  They  will  I'ally  I  " 
calk'il  Ixiek  one  ridei'  only  to  l)e  eoiitradieti'd  l)y 
the  next.  "  It  is  not  a  retreat  I  It  is.  a  panic- 1 
They  have  hi'tiken  ranks.  ]\Ien  ai'c  Ih'inL;- 
madly.  (inns,  amninnitioii,  evervthiiiL;-  tliat 
liindei's  s[)eed  liaNC  lieeii  thrown  aA\'a\'  !  I'^aeh 
man  is  llyinL;-  to  sa\'e  luniself!  W'ashinLj'loii  is 
in  dange)'  !  "" 

The  (dimax  liad  indeed  eome.  The  dismay 
knew  no  l)onnds.  A\diat  next  '/  ]\Inst  the 
Pi'esident  escape?  Where  shonld  he  l;(i  ?  If 
he  left,  what  rotdd  Congress  do?  Mtrst  all  i]y  ? 
AVhere  ?  Woidd  the  enemy  iiiyade  \VasljinL;- 
ton  ?  AVas  the  Northern  army  really  so  dis- 
organized, si)  demoralized?  In  the  name  of 
God  I  ^\ilat  eould  it  ail  mean?  People  all 
asked  (piestions.  There  Avas  no  ()ne  to  answer 
them — no  one  hut  the  stragglers  ^dio  l)ega.ii  to 
come  in.  Were  the  hi'ave  fellows  mIio  had  so 
gallantly  and  eheerfuUy  marched  otit  not  l)rayo 
after  all?  Were  they  otUinun1)ered  ?  Were 
there  no  reinforcements?     AVhat  ■\\'as   the  solu- 


.LY  UNOFFICIAL  PATBIOT.  187 

tion  ?  The}'  had  not  long  to  wait.  A  liandful 
of  horsemen,  shame-faced  and  hesitant,  then 
worn  out  and  hard-driven  teams  began  to  appear 
at  the  far  end  of  the  Long  Bridge.  All  Wasli- 
mgton  took  to  its  housetops.  Anxious  faces 
watched  for  some  approaching  line.  None 
came  ;  but  the  Long  Bridge  was  gorged  with  a 
struggling  mass  of  horse,  foot  and  ordnance. 
There  Avas  no  pretense  of  a  line  of  march. 
Each  man  fled  by  and  for  himself.  Twilight 
saw  the  streets  filled  with  men  in  soiled  and 
torn  uniform ;  uniform  whieh  had  but  just 
marched  out  fresh  and  resplendent.  Sullen 
replies  greeted  questions. 

"  By  God,  we  didn't  know  where  we  w^ere  ! 
Officers  didn't  know  any  more'ii  we  did." 

"  Had  us  in  a  pocket !  " 

"  Gad,  Ave  was  lost — didn't  know  the  way  in 
7ier  out !     Try  it   yerself.'' 

"  Willin'  t'  fight — l)ut  not  willin'  t'  go  it 
blind  like  that."  Ambulances,  limping  footmen, 
infantr}',  cavalry,  ordinance  and  supply  wagons 
crowded  and  jostled  and  swore  and  cursed  each  at 
the  other.  Each  struggled  for  place  in  advance. 
The  Long  Bridge,  the   Aqueduct  Bridge,   the 


.1 X  UXOFFK  1. 1 L   I' A  TJHOT. 


Cliaiii  Bridge,  all  ^\\■ru  one  ina<l  si-ciie  (•!  confu- 
sion. The  tcrrilu-d  ]rieu  saw  tlii'  donif  of  llic 
Capitol  and  ilieir  aim  v.'as  lo  icacli  it  liy  tlio 
nearest  route.  I'lie  tlioUL;ht  of  ilie  iuil<no\vu 
country  had  heeii  to  tliein  a  ni;_;luniare  from 
"wliieh  eseape  was  tlieir  oiily  desire.  ^Ml  iii^'hc 
tlie  g'hastly  speelaele  was  ke})t  up.  Xo  one 
slej^it.  No  one  knew  A\'hat  to  expeet  on  the 
morrow,  Would  the  city  l)e  ])onil»arded  from 
the  lieights  beyond?  AVould  it  he  sludled 
and  hurui'd?  Would  tliese  iianie-sniekeii  men 
rally?  ("ould  they  lie  depended  upon,  or  was 
the  fri'^dit  ]iow  so  in  tlieir  hlood  that  the}'  would 
refuse  to  form  in  line  ai^'ain  and  ohey  com- 
mands? (/ould  they  he  j-elied  upon?  Penn- 
sylyania  ayenue  was  lined  with  tired,  terrified, 
and  wounded  men.  Churches  Ayere  turned  into 
hospitals.  Xoljody  slept.  Surgeons  were 
everywhere.  More  wounded  ke})t  coming  in. 
Surgeons  from  Baltimore,  from  Pliiladelphia, 
and  eyen  from  X"ew  York  responded  to  tele- 
grams. S[)ecial  trains  rushed  in.  Washington 
was  one  mad  wliiii  of  fright  and  dismay ! 
Next  morning  the  wliole  country  was  electrified 
by    the    terrible    news.     '^  Extra  I   'stra  !    'stro  ! 


.LY  rx OFFICIAL  PATniOT.  189 

Extra  I  all  "bout  terrible  defeat  in-in-m-"ion 
troops  !  "stra  !  'stra  I  'stro  !  "  In  eveiy  town 
and  hamlet  in  the  country — on  every  tal)le 
there  was  spread  the  awful  news  on  the  morning 
of  July  22.  ]Men  began  to  take  on  another 
look.  Tliis,  indeed,  Avas  serious  I  What  was 
to  be  done  ?  Reserve  troops  were  started 
without  delay  from  camp  and  home.  Excite- 
ment was  at  fever  heat.  Would  the  fresh 
troops  arrive  in  time  ?  Could  Washington 
hold  out  ?  Must  the  President  fly  ?  Another 
kind  of  question  bore  liard  upon  many  a  house- 
hold. Who  was  killed?  Who  Avounded? 
AVho  missing  ?  People  looked  into  each  other's 
eyes  and  feared  to  ask  or  to  speak  of  this  ques- 
tion nearest  their  hearts. 

Roy  Davenport's  regiment  was  ordered  to  the 
front.  Henceforth  camp  life  would  be  no  pic- 
nic. They  could  be  boys  no  longer.  Men  were 
needed  at  the  front.  Beverly's  company  had 
some  time  since  joined  the  troops  in  the  South- 
west and  was  in  the  field.  The  battery  in  which 
Howard  acted  as  gunner  was  Avith  Sherman  in 
the  far  South.  For  the  first  time  the  seriousness 
of  the  situation  was  borne  home  to  the  whole 


190  .1-V  rXOFFK'IAL  patthot. 

Xoi'tli.  To  ft-el  that  Wasliing'toii  was  really 
ill  (laii^^'rr  <j;;i\l'  a  new  iiK-aiiiii;.;'  to  defeat.  ^Vhy 
Lad  the  Xortlieru  troops  met  sueli  a  fearful  dis- 
aster'/ Befoi'e  this  thev  had  -won  in  almost 
every  eontest.  hut  this  \\'as  worlli  all  the  rest  to 
the  Soutli  so  near  was  it  to  "Washiug'tou — so  near 
to  IJiehmond.  The  two  ea[)ltals  faeed  eaell 
other  like  gladiators,  and  the  hrst  serious  IjIow 
liad  fallen  with  erushing  foree  U[)on  the  Union 
cliampions.  If  Washington  fell  the  C'onfederaey 
Avas  sure  of  foreign  recognition — of  sueeess. 

Giihitli  had  a  long  talk  with  (ioverijor  ^Morton 
when  he  \'\'ent  to  see  l{oy"s  regiment  off.  When 
he  came  home  he  was  pale  and  anxious.  There 
was  a  new  ti'onhle  on  his  heart.  lie  did  not 
tell  Katherine  that  Morton  had  urged  him  to 
volunteer  his  services  to  the  (iovernment  as  a 
guide  through  the  passes  and  deliles  of  his 
natiA'e  State. 

'*  Your  knowledge  of  that  eountrv  would  be 
simply  invalualile.  It  Avould  prevent  any  sucli 
disaster  as  this  again.  Panics  like  this  ruin  an 
army.  It  will  take  months  to  recover  from  sucli 
a  rout  even  if  nothing  worse  comes  of  it.  The 
moral   effect  is  simplj-  fatal.     You  arc  a  Union 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  101 

man  and  3'nu  know  every  foot  of  that  country. 
Our  g-enerals  don't.  Tlie}^  are  afraid  to  risk 
o-ettinsf  their  men  into  a  pocket  and  h^sinq-  their 
whole  command.  You  can  liclp.  The  main 
battle-ground  is  1)()und  to  be  Virginia  ;  we  can 
accomplish  nothing  of  value  until  we  knoAV  and 
feel  secure  on  that  soil — until  the  State  is  an 
open  book  to  us.  Let  me  Avire  the  President 
that  you  will.     Let " 

Griftitli  held  up  his  hand. 

"I  cannot  I  I  cannot  I"  he  said.  "It  is  my 
old  State  ;  I  love  it  and  my  people.  I  have 
done  enough  for  my  country.  I  have  done  my 
share.  I  have  given  my  property,  ni}'  friends, 
my  home,  and  now  my  three  boys — all,  all  I  have 
given  for  my  conscience  and  my  country's  sake. 
Surely  I  have  done  my  whole  duty,  I  will  not 
betray  my  State  !     I  will  not !  " 

Over  and  over  the  Governor  had  returned  to 
the  attack  only  to  receive  the  same  reply.  Day 
after  day  he  argued  with  Griffith,  and  still  ill 
news  came  from  the  front.  The  army  of  the 
Potomac  seemed  paralyzed  after  its  repulse. 
The  real  gravity  of  the  situation  was,  for  the 
first  time,  borne  in  upon  both  the  military  and 


102 


AX  rXOFFICIAL    I'.lTIHi'T. 


the  ]i(iliiical  iiiiiid.  If  llie  g'reat  foreiL;'!!  [.owcrs 
ivcii'^iii/.iMl  ilic  Cniiffdrratr  ytiv.'i'iiiiii'iit.  tlie  ii  ■- 
pill  llie  w  as  L  ist.  It'  W'a-liiiiv'lon  fell,  thai  ir;.-()'.nii- 
t  inii  w  as  as^i'.riMJ  -and  sliU  '•  all  A\as  (juit.'t  on  lln.' 
I'oloniac"" 

'V\\v  niiddh'  (if  duh-  the  ^^■ir(/s  liail  lla^lird  iiic 
]U'\\s  III'  llir  defeat  of  llie  ( '(Hi  l'e(lel'al  t/s  al  rxniii- 
ville,  ?k[i>siimi.  1)\'  L\'iii;s"  nieii.  I>everl\'  had 
Iteeii  there,  and  had  wi-llleii  the  full  aeeounl 
home,  d'hen  he  was  at  ( 'arlhaL;-e.  and  was  full 
of  li^ht  and  enlhusiasni.  After  his  aecotiut  of 
the  liallle  at  Cartha^'e.  he  had  other  things  to 
ttdl.  ••  f  did.nd  get  a  serateh  either  place,  Intt 
the  day  after  the  last  light  I  did  get  a  lot  of  full 
out  of  it.  I  suppose  you  won't  he  aide  to  see 
how  there  eiuild  he  any  fuu  in  the  situation. 
AVelh  I'll  tell  yoti  oiu'  or  two  things.  One  of 
tny  men  sho^\-ed  the  \\'hite  feathei'.  and  we  were 
thinking  of  eourt-martialing  and  making  an 
example  of  him.  I  made  tip  my  mind  to  give 
Ilartman  (that  was  the  fellow's  name,  Hill  Ilart- 
]nan )  a  elianee  to  tell  me  jirivalely  his  side  of 
the  story.  Says  I,  '  Bill,  I've  asked  all  your 
neighhors  here  in  camp  if  yon  were  a  coward  at 
liome,  and  they  all  say  yoti  were  not  only  brave, 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  FATlilOT.  103 

but  you  liad  proved  it  many  a  time.  jSTo^v,  I 
want  to  save  you  this  court-martial  if  I  can,  and 
I  want  you  to  tell  me  your  side  of  it.  I  low  did 
it  happen  ?  ' 

"  'AVell,'  said  he,  transferring  his  quid  of  to- 
bacco to  his  other  cheek,  '  Cap,  it's  this  a-way.  I 
can't  seem  t"  jest  stand  right  up  an'  shoot  a  fel- 
ler I  ain't  had  no  words  with.  I  want  to  pick 
out  my  mauAvhen  I  kill  him,  an'  I  want  t' kinder 
have  a  quah'l  with  him  fust.  I  can't  seem  t' 
jest  stand  right  up  an'  kill  a  man  I  ain't  had  no 
words  with.  I  can't  do  it,  somehow  er  'nother, 
Cap.' 

''  I  don't  know  how  I'm  going  to  manage  to 

get  Bill  into  a  '  quah'l '  with  some  special  Keb 

before  the  next  fight,  and  then  make  sure  he'll 

get  a  chance   to   pop  at  that  particular  one  in 

action  !     We'll  have  to  get  up  some  scheme,  I 

suppose.     Bill  is  too  good  a  soldier  to  be  liam- 

pered  and  to  have  his  usefulness  impaired  by  a 

simple  want  of  a  feeling  of  personal  revenge  I 

I  reckon  if  the  truth  were  told,  though,  we  all 

fight  a  good  deal  better  if  we  have  that  stimu-' 

lant.     Another  ludicrous  thing   happened    the 

other  day.     I  was  sent  out,  just  with  an  orderly, 
13 


194  .1-Y  rXOFFiriAL  PATUIOT. 

to  see  if  I  could  l(Mi'ii  aii\"i]iiiig  of  llic  move- 
iiiciils  (_\i  tlic  ciieiiiy.  Wv  liad  (Ui  citizens" 
cldllirs.  and  \\"c  j(vgL;'cd  aloiiL;'  until  wo  were 
Avitlun  lield-L>;lass  distance  o!"  I  larris's  canip.  He 
is  an  old  \\'est  Pointer  and  a  tactician.  l"\e 
lieai'd  lliat  tliey  call  him  '  ( )ld  Lo^'isti(/s  au'l 
Stralci^T  '  — and  I  must  say  if  his  ad\ice  in  the 
Senate  had  heen  followed  last  A\inter  ^\■e'd  have 
had  a  lui^lily  poor  show  here  noAw  JJut  when 
Ave  !4'ot  A\]iere  we  ihon^lit  we  could  see  .si^me- 
thin;^',  (juile  a  sliowcr  came  np  and  our  glass 
M'as  no  use.  Uiidei'  the  cover  of  the  I'ain  I 
ventniXMl  a  good  de.d  cdosi'i' :  and.  if  vou'll  l»e- 
lieve  me,  his  commaml  wwo  sitting  on  their 
li(jrses.  di'awn  up  in  line,  with  nnd)rellas  I'aised  ! 
Tlie  absurdity  of  the  tiling  neaily  knoidvcd  my 
pins  from  under  me.  I  only  wislied  I  could  get 
near  enough  ti^  see  tlie  effect  on  Old  Lr)gistics 
Avhen  he  shouhl  emerge  from  his  tent — and  lie  a 
West  P(Mnter  I  Put  you  don't  need  to  make 
any  mistakes  ahout  tlieir  lighting — tliese  natives. 
AVe've  found  tliat  they  will  light  to  the  death, 
l)ut  they've  got  their  own  ideas  on  the  suhject 
of  soldiering  in  the  meantime.  ]\Iost  of  'em 
carry  their  powder  in  a  pouch,  and  it  needs  to  be 


Ay  UX OFFICIAL  FAflUOr.  195 

kept  diy  I  It  Avas  the  very  funniest  thing  I  ever 
sa\v,  though.  I'he  rain  eanie  down  in  .such  tor- 
rents I  couldn't  get  an  idea  how  many  there 
were,  hut,  from  the  Avay  the}- fouglitusnext  da}^ 
I  made  u[)  my  mind  there  must  he  pretty  chjse 
to  a  million — and  they  didn't  use  uinhrellas  to 
protect  themselves,  either  I  They  took  our  storm 
of  shot  cooler  than  they  did  the  rain  in  camp, 
and  tlu'V  foi\ght  like  demons.  Of  course,  their 
equi[)ments  don't  compare  with  ours.  Most  of 
them  have  their  old  home  guns — -no  two  alike. 
But  a  good  lot  of  our  hoys  are  carrying  around 
some  of  their  annnunition  inside  of  them  just 
now,  all  the  same.  One  of  the  prisoners  we 
took — a  straggle!' — told  us  that  none  of  his 
command  are  regularlj'  enlisted.  They  are 
afraid  to  enlist ;  say  that  Old  Logistics  is  a 
'reg'lar,"  and,  if  they  enlist  and  then  don't 
do  just  his  way,  he'll  court-martial  them. 
They  argue  that,  if  they  don't  regularly  enlist, 
lie  can't  do  anything  to  them.  They  are  ready 
and  eager  to  fight,  Ijut  they  don't  propose  to 
he  suhject  to  'regular'  discipline  in  the  in- 
tervals. This  fellow  says  lialf  of  the  command 
go  home  nights — to  their  farms  and  stores — and 


I'm;  .ly  rxoFFKiAi.  patujot. 


ivtuni  ill  (Liwii  tlic  next  moniiiig.  I  think  lie 
is  Ivini;'  aliniit  llic  nuiiil)cis  \\\\n  do,  l)nt  I  ilon't 
(l(iul)t  tliat  sonic  (]o.  He  vows  liu  is  telling'  the 
cold  fact.  I-'aiir\-  tlie  humor  of  connnanding'  an 
aniiy  nmltT  imihrclla^,  wiio  go  home  nights  to 
milk  the  cows  !  I5iit  undertake  to  fight  'em, 
and  ihci'c  is  no  hiugh  left.  That  is  not  their 
comic  side.  W'e  ha\c  orders  to  move  in  llie 
nioruiiig  and  ai'e  all  icady.  I  will  let  yon  liear 
again  the  moment  we  ^toil."" 

lUd'ore  this  letter  ol'  l'>everly"s  reaehed  home 
the  lelegra|ihie  news  of  the  battle  of  AVilson"s 
Civek  lilled  the  pa[iers.  lU'verly's  name  ap- 
]ieai'e<l  among  the  ^\■onnded  :  '"  Seriously,  not 
hitall\- — Captain  lieNerh'  I)aven})ort:  shot  in 
three  places  A\hile  covering  retreat  after  fieiiei'al 
Lyon  fell.  Young  Captain  Daven[)ort's  men 
did  good  service.  Ills  connnand  lost  heavily."' 
No  fni'ther  news  came,  (iriflitli  telegraphed, 
hut  could  get  no  ]'e[)h-. 

''•  Yoti  mtist  go  and  l)ring  him  home,""  said 
Katherine.  ''  I  cainiot  hear  this  sns}>en.se  any 
longer."' 

She  had  grown  pale  and  hollow-eyed  in  these 
few  days  of  anxiety.     Griffith  went.     He  found 


AN   rXOFFlCIAL  PATUIOT.  1<)7 

])everly  (loiuf;- well,  lait  a  ball  had  youe  lliroug-li 
his  sword-arm  and  two  others  were  inil)edded  in 
his  flesh.  His  horse  had  fallen  Ijeneath  him 
and  he  liad  had  to  walk  on  the  wounded  leg', 
and  had  lost  mueh  Itlood.  He  looked  weak  and 
thin.  His  f»rderly  had  written  home  for  him, 
but  the  letter  had  never  come.  Griffith  urged 
him  to  go  home  and  recuperate,  but  he  would 
not  listen  to  the  proposition.  Griffith  wrote 
home  to  Kathei'ine  and  then  waited.  Tlie  com- 
mand was  ordered  to  move,  and  still  Beverly 
was  not  able  to  go  Avith  it.  The  commander 
ordered  him  to  go  home  until  able  to  report  for 
duty. 

He  was  a  sensation  in  the  village.  He  was 
the  first  handsome  young  Avounded  officer  to  re- 
turn. Alas  !  they  were  plenty  enough  later  on  ; 
but  now  his  limp  and  his  arm  suspended  in  a 
sling  made  him  a  hero,  indeed.  Many  were  the 
demonstrations  in  his  honor.  The  Governor 
came  to  see  him,  and  strove  again  to  convince 
Griffith  that  he,  too,  was  needed  at  the  front. 
"•  I  have  told  President  Lincoln  about  you,"  he 
said.  "  You  can  see  for  yourself  what  the  army 
in   Virginia   is    doino-   ever   since  Bull  Run — 


IDS  AX  rXOFFKIAL   PATJilOT. 


iiotliiiiL;-  at  all.  Tliose  tAA"o  defeats — l'>nil  Run 
and  Hall's  lUul'f — st(i[)jicd  tliem  ol'f  cidii'eh". 
Ai-lidU  tliat  will  l)c  eiTi-cti\'('  is  siiii[il\-  iuipos- 
sil)lt-  willuaU  kiiowiii;^-  llie  la\-  of  llie  land. 
Nnrtlieni  nirii  dnn'i  know  it.  nnd  A\'e  caiTt  trust 
Soiitlieni  men  to  tell  tlic  truth,  of  eourse, 
al»out  it.  d'lic  relxds  know  lliat  }ierfeetlv  \\cll, 
antl  they  hanlv  on  it.  ddic\-  keep  their  hest  and 
sti'onLiest  L;'eiu.'rals.  and  men  wlio  know  tlic 
State  like  a  Ijook.  ii;_;ht  tiicre  l)etween  AVasliint;'- 
ton  antl  lliehniond.  It  won't  do  to  let  it  he 
g'enerally  known,  {ov  iluit  \\iiidd  put  panie  iiUo 
our  troops  wlifu  thc\-  are  trif(l  next  :  hut  tliei'e 
is  not  a  soul  the  lhx'si(h'nt  ran  trust  who  knows 
those  passes  and  delilcs  and  fords.  Captain,  T 
hope  3'ou  know  tlieni.  I  don't  helie\'e  ifnn  \\'\\\ 
refuse  to  '^o  any  pla.ee  you  are  needi'il.  ^\s  a 
reeruit — an  enlistcil  nian — you  cini't  j'efuse." 

'••  Cio."  Naid  ])eveily  :  "l;i>.'  wliy  of  eottrse  I 
would  if  [  knew  the  country  as  hitlier  does,  liut 
1  don  t.  ^  oit  see  father  ttsed  to  he  a  eireiiit- 
rider.  lie  knows  every  foot  of  it  as  if  it  were 
liis  front  yard,  hut  I  would  know  oidy  a.  few 
luiles  near  Avliere  we  lived.  I  was  oidy  a  hoy 
then.     It   is  a  hard  country  to    learn.     Passes 


AX  UNOFFICIAL  FATBIOT.  199 


are  many  and  blind.  Fords  change— it  lakes  a 
native  and  an  expert  to  feel  safe  Avitli  tlieni.     If 

I •'      Tie  turned  suddenly  to  liis  father    iu 

his  enthusiasm.  ^- Why  don't  you  go,  father? 
If   the   President   wants  you— if    your    country 

needs  you,  why "'     He    saw  the    look  that 

crept  into  his  father's  face,  and  he  understood. 
The  young  fellow  limped  to  his  father's  side 
and  laid  his  left  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"Father  has  done  enough,"  he  said,  looking 
at  the  Governor.  "  Do  not  ask  him  to  do  this. 
lie  fought  his  hattle  Ijefore  the  Xorth  came  to 
it.  lie  has  Ijorne  and  suffered  enough.  Gov- 
ernor. Father  is  a  Virginian,  blood,  bone,  and 
ancestry.  He  loves  his  people  and  his  old  liome. 
We  boys  don't  remember  it  as  he  does,  but  to 
liiiu — to  him,  it  will  always  be  home.  They 
will  always  be  his  people." 

"  Uidess  it  is  desperate  and  I  am  ordered,  I 
shall  not  go,"  said  Griffith,  looking  up  almost 
defiantly.  "  You  need  not  ask  me  again.  Gov- 
ernor. I  have  done  my  share.  I  have  done 
more  for  my  country  and  my  conscience  than 
many  men  will  be  called  upon  to  do — I  have 
done  my  share." 


'J(l(j  AX  US  OFFICIAL  PAriUOT. 

The  Governor  gavt-  it  up,  liut  lie  diil  not  i'nr- 
o-et  one  phrase,  "  unless  it  is  desperate — unless 
I  am  ordered."  That  nin'ht  he  stalled  for 
AVashiriLj'ton,  and  a  wmdc  later  IJevt'rlv  returned 
to  his  comuKind  and  to  duty  in  the  held. 


.-l.Y  IJy OFFICIAL   PATRIOT.  201 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A   SILENT   HERO. 

One  evening-  Griftitli  sat  Ijy  the  library  table 
reading,  and  Katlierine  was  moving  about  the 
room  I'estlessly.  For  several  days  no  news  had 
come  from  the  front — no  home  news,  no  letters 
from  the  absent  sons.  The  door  leading  to  the 
porch  was  open  and  suddenly  there  stood  before 
them  a  messenger  with  a  telegram.  Katlierine 
grew  weak  and  sick.  Griffith  tore  the  envelope 
open  and  I'ead.  She  watched  his  face.  Ever}^ 
vesticre  of  blood  had  left  it,  and  his  head  sank  on 
his  arms  crossed  on  tlie  taljle  before  him.  The 
telegram  was  crushed  in  one  hand.  A  groan 
escaped  him,  and  then  a  sob  shook  his  frame. 

"  Which  one  is  it  ?  AVhich  one  of  my  boys  is 
killed  ?  Which — which  one  ?  "  cried  Katlierine. 
She  tried  to  loosen  the  hand  that  clasped  the 
message,  but  lie  held  it  crushed,  and  when  he 


202  AX  rx OFFICIAL  PATIHOT. 


lifted  liis  licad  (cars  wrix'  streainiiig  down  Ids 
clircks.  Jle  tri(Ml  to  I'uassiire  lici'.  "  It  is  not 
fli'/f,"  ]ir  said.  Imarsrly.      "  TIh'N- — llic   Inns  are 

all   riL;li(,  l)iit   llicy  have   oi'dered  iiic .""      He 

ivlaxed  Ids  L;'ras|),  and  las  head  sank  again  on 
liis  ai'ins. 

tSlie  look  the  message  and  read: 

-  Washington,  I).  C. 
'' Iveport  here  innnedialelv. 

"  A.  LixcoLx." 

For  a  niontent  Katherine  seemed  stunneiL 
She  did  not  (■om|»r(diend.  Tlien  she  seemed  to 
rise  hir  ahove  her  normal  slatnre. 

'•'Toll  sJniJ/  lint  ijii.'"  .she  saiil.  ITer  eves 
l)lazed.  Her  hands  hnng  liv  her  sides.  l)nt  they 
■\vere  elencdied  until  the  nails  sank  into  the 
llesli.  The  tigi'ess  in  lier  A\"as  at  last  aroused. 
'•You  sliall  )int  go:  Ihnv  dare  he?  With 
tlu'ee  of  my  hoys  in  the  aianv  now  !  With  us 
2'edueeil  to  this!"  She  had  never  eom|ilaiiie(l 
of  the  change  in  her  st\le  of  li\"ing,  hut  she 
flung  (^ut  ihe  eontemptuoi's  lire  within  her  as 
she  stretidied  out  her  arms  to  indicate  the  sim- 
plicity   of    her    surroundings.     ••  With    ^/^/.s    iu 


Ay  UNOFFICIAL  PATBIOT.  203 

excliaiige  for  what  ^ye  liad  I  Willi  every  tie 
broken  !  With  every  luxury  and  eonifort  gone  I 
Separated  fi-om  even  the  negroes  that  k:)ved  us 
and  begged  to  come  with  us  I  How  dare  t\wj 
ask  for  further  sacrifice  from  us  !  How  dare 
he  ! " 

Grif(ith\s  head  lifted  slowl}-.  He  looked  at 
her  in  dismay.  Was  this  the  patient,  compliant 
wife  who  had  willingl}'  given  up  her  fortune  and 
her  home  to  satisfy  his  conscience  ?  Was  this 
the  silent,  demure,  self-controlled  Katherine — 
this  very  tall,  angry  A^'oman  ?  Slie  l(X)ked  like 
a  fury  unchained.  She  took  a  step  nearer  to 
him. 

"  You  shall  not  go  I "  she  repeated,  and  tlie 
astonislied  messenger-boy  fled  in  affright,  as  she 
suddenl}'  threw  both  arms  about  Griffith  and 
began  to  sol)  convulsively. 

Griffith  held  her  to  his  breast,  which  lieaved 
and  choked  him.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he 
could  not  speak.  At  last  he  whispered  softly  : 
"  I  must  go,  Katlieriue.  It  is  an  order  fi'om  the 
President.  I  will  have  to  go  to  Washington." 
He  had  not  finished  speaking  until  he  felt  her 
form  begin  to  shrink  and  collapse  in  his  grasp. 


204  AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 

Her  eyes  liulf  elused,  half  opened  aq-aiii,  then 
clnseil  and  a.  ^■lia.sily  pallor  s})read  itself  over  her 
faee.  For  the  Ih'st  time  in  her  life  Katherine 
Irid  fainted.  His  hrst  ihou^^'ht  Avas  thatslie  was 
dead.  A  great  A\'a\e  of  frar  and  then  of  self-re- 
pi'oach  s\vc[it  over  him.  He  sat  stariny  in  the 
yliastly  faee. 

"  I  liave  saerilieed  her  very  life  to  niv  eon- 
seieiiee,"'  lie  moaiie(l  aloud.  '"  I  had  no  right  to 
do  that  I  (iod  help  me  I  (iod  forgive  me! 
Wlia-t  /x  it  right  to  do'/  ( 'an  we  Jicrrrknuw 
what  is  right'/"*  He  ■was  holding  hi'r  in  his 
arms,  with  his  own  face  upturned  and  stai'ing 
eyes.  "God  help  nic  I  (iodludpnic!  What 
is  it  right  to  do  "/ "'  he  moaned  again. 

•"'Ko"  de  good  La\\-d  on  high,  i\los'  Grif,  wlnit 
de  matter  wif  Mis'  Kate'/  What  de  mattah  wif 
all  two,  bofe  of  yoh'/"'  exclaimed  Aunt  Judy. 
"  I  done  see  dat  little  rapscallion  Avhat  brung  de 
telegraf  letter  run  fo"  deah  life,  an"  he  3-ell  back 
dat  Mis"  Kate  done  gone  crazy,  an" " 

Judy  had  hoblded  to  his  side,  and  lier  old 
eyes  were  growing  use<l  to  the  changed  light. 
She  saw  his  tear-stained  face  and  Katherine's 
lifeless  form  in  his  arms. 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  205 

'' Ls  Alis'  Kate  daid,  Mos'  Grif?"'  she  asked, 
in  an  awed  voice. 

'*  I  liave  killed  her,"  he  said,  like  one  in  a 
dream,  looking-  at  the  old  woman  as  to  one  who 
eonld  be  relied  on  to  understand.  Katherine's 
eyelids  began  to  move.  Tliey  slowly  lifted 
and  closed  again.     The  old  woman  saw  it  first. 

"  Mos'  Grif,  wat  fo"  yoh  tell  me  dat  kine  er 
talk?  !Mis'  Kate,  she  ain't  daid.  She's  des 
foolin'.  Yoh  ain't  hu'tted,  is  yoh,  honey  ?  "  she 
cooed,  stroking"  Katherine's  hair.  "  Nobody 
ain't  hu'tted  3'oh,  is  dey,  ]\Iis'  Kate?  No- 
body  " 

'"  Get  some  Avater — quick,  quick  !  "  said  Grif- 
fith, and  struggled  to  the  couch  with  his  bur- 
den. He  knelt  beside  her  and  stroked  her 
forehead  and  chafed  her  hands.  lie  could  not 
speak,  l)ut  he  tried  to  control  his  distorted  feat- 
ures, that  she  might  not  understand — might  not 
remember — when  she  should  open  her  eyes. 

"  Heah  some  wattah,  honey.  Des  3T)h  take  a 
big  sup.  Hit  gwine  ter  do  yoh  good.  Dar, 
now,  I  gwine  ter  lif  yoali  haid.  Xoav,  den,  yoh 
des  lay  des  dat  away,  an'  Aunt  Judy  gwine  ter 
run  an'  git  dat  rabbit  foot !     Dat  gwine  ter  cuali 


2()G  AX  rXOFFiriAL  PATUIOr. 

yoli  riglit  off.  It  is  Jut.  Dey  ain't  no  doetali  in 
(lis  roun'  ^yol^  kin  cnali  yoli  like  wat  dat  kin — 
k't  erlone  one  er  <lese  heali  Yankc.'e  doetalis ! 
Hit  foteli  nie  to  yon  alls  dat  time  wat  yoh 
rninic<l  awav.  an'  liit  feleli  deni  roses  Laek  to 
yoali  elieeks.  too.      Dal  kit  kin  I" 

She  liol)])led  oft  lo  ker  lofl  to  find  her  preeions 
talisman,  and  (iril'liili  sofily  closed  and  locked 
the  door  keliiiid  ker.  Katkerine  lay  so  still  lie 
tkon^^lit  ske  liad  kdlen  asleej).  He  conld  see 
ker  kreatking.  He  went  to  kis  seat  l)eside  tke 
couek  and  gently  kiinied  ker  pale  face.  Tke 
color  kad  come  again  in  tke  lips.  Presently  lie 
went  softly  across  tke  room  and  took  np  tke 
crnmpled  message  from  tke  floor,  wkere  ske  kad 
drop})ed  it. 

"■  Report   kere  immediately. 

"  A.  Lincoln," 

Tliere  could  ke  no  mistake  al)out  tkat.  It 
was  a  command  from  tke  President,  imperative, 
urgent.  He  sank  into  tke  ckair  again,  and  kis 
kead  fell  on  kis  fokk'd  arms  on  tke  takle.  His 
li[)s  were  moving,  but  tliere  was  no  sound.  At 
last  ke  was  conscious  of  a  liglit  tapping  on  tke 


.1-Y  UNOFFICIAL  PAT  RIOT.  207 

window.  He  was  surprised  to  find  lliat  it  Avas 
dark.  lie  crossed  the  room  to  find  Rosanna 
outside  Avitli  a  tray. 

"  Shure,  an'  Oi  troied  botli  dures,  an'  not  a 
sound  did  Oi  git.  'Tis  long  phast  yer  tay 
toime,  an'  not  a  pick  liave  ye  et — naytlier  wan 
av  yez.  Tlie  ould  nayger's  done  fed  the  baby 
an'  put  ber  t'  bed.  Sliure,  an'  sbe's  a-gakxvantin' 
'round  here  thryin'  tbe  dures  an'  windeys, 
fiourisbin'  tlie  fut  av  a  bunnie,  be  jabbers  !  Sbe 
says  'tis  wliat  yez  wants  fer  yer  liealtli ;  but,  sez 
Oi,  viddles  is  wbat  tliey  wants,  sez  Oi — an'  bere 
they  be." 

GrifStb  opened  tlie  door. 

"  Is  it  wan  av  tbe  young  maistbers  kilt, 
shure  ? "  she  wbispered,  as  sbe  put  tbe  tray 
down. 

Griffitb  shook  bis  bead. 

"  Well,  thanks  be  t'  Almoiglity  God  an'  all 
the  blisbed  saints  !  Oi  feared  me  it  was  the 
young  maisther — an'  shure  an'  ye'd  go  fur  and 
not  foind  the  loikes  av  him  agin.  He  looked 
just  simply  ghrand  in  his  ossifer's  wniforiwi. 
Yez  nioight  say  ghrand  !  Shure  an'  nobody  else 
could    match    up    wid  "im!     He  looked    that 


208  AN  UXOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


relispectabk' I  .ViT  tlic  scliape  ;iv  "iiu  I  "'  Slie 
tlirow  up  licr  liaiuls  and  admircil  the  absent 
r>evei'ly.  '■ 'Jdic  scliape  av  "iiii  I  Yez  nioigliL 
say  I  ]  [(■  sliiircly  do  l)e(M!iuc  lliein  so^'er  (dose! 
Xow,  cairt  ye/,  att,'  the  rear  av  tliiiii  Ijeri'ies, 
di-ar  ?      They're    simply  yhraiid,  they're   shpleii- 

did :  '• 

Ivallieriiie  seemed  t()  he  sleepinc;'.  and  OrilTitli 
soon  pusheil  ilie  tray  aside,  liosanna  took  it 
Uji.      TIii'ii  slie  leaned  foi'wai-d. 

••  Sliure.  an'  that  ould  iiaygei-'s  awl'ul  reh- 
speetahle  :  y<'  I'an  see  tliat  h\'  the  lul-ces  av  her; 
1)Ut  slie's  llict  t'oolish  witli  her  ould  ded  buniiie 
fut  lliel  she  mahes  me  eraipy  in  me  shpine." 

She  L;laneed  altoiit  her  liefore  ventiirinq'  out, 
and  then  made  a  sudden  dash  fur  the  kilelien. 


AN   Uy OFFICIAL   PATIUOT.  L>09 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  The  depths  and  shoals  of  honor."     SJinkef^peare. 

When  Giiffitli  readied  Washington  he  sent 

his  name  directly  to  the  President,  and  was  told 

to  go  to  the  room  Avhich  Mr.  Lincoln  called  his 

workshop,  and  ^^'here  his  maps  were.     The  walls 

and  tables  were  covered  with  them.     There  was 

no  one  in  the  room  when  Griffith  entered.     He 

W'alked   to    a    window   and   stood  looking  out. 

In  the   distance,  across   the  river,  he  could  see 

the  heights.      Pie    noticed  a  lield-glass  on  the 

table.     He    took    it    up    and    focused    it.     The 

powerful  instrument  seemed  to  bring  the  Long 

Bridge    to    his  very  feet.     He  remembered   in 

wdiat  tense  excitement  he  had  seen  and  crossed 

that  bridge  last,  and  how  he  had  thought  and 

spoken  of  it  as  the  dead-line.     He  recalled  the 

great  relief  he  had  felt  when  his  negroes  and  his 

own  carriage  had  at  last  touched  free  soil — -Avere 

indeed  in  the  streets  of  Washington.     It  came 
14 


210  AX  rxornciAL  PATnior. 

over  liim  that  tlie  (•(Uiiitiy,  as  wxAl  as  he,  liad 
travek'd  a  very  h)]iL;-  way  since  that  time — ami 
over  a  stormy  roa(L  .V  lilart.'  of  martial  music 
sottiuled  ill  the  distauee.  He  Avatelied  tlie 
sohliers  moving  ahout  in  parade.  I  Te  thought 
of  liis  own  sons,  and  \\'on(h/red  where  tliey  were 
and  if  tliey  Avere  all  safe  to-day.  A  heavy  sigh 
csea[)ed  him,  and  a  hand  fell  n[>on  liis  shoidder. 
He  turned  to  faee  the  tall,  strange,  dark  man 
Avho  had  entered  so  silently.  His  simple  and 
cliaraeteristieally  dii-eet  words  were  not  needed 
to  introdttee  him.  No  one  could  ever  mistake 
the  strong  face  that  hail  heen  carieaiuriMl  or 
idealized  ly  fiiend  or  foe  in  e^■ery  corner  of  the 
land,  hut  which,  after  all,  had  never  1)eeu  re- 
produced with  its  simple  l\)rce  and  rugged 
grandeur.  Before  Grifiith  cotild  s}ieak  lie  felt 
that  the  keen  hut  kindly  eyes  had  taken  his 
meastire — he  was  being  judged  hy  a  reader  of 
that  most  diffiettlt,  varied  and  complieated  of 
languages — the  language  of  the  human  face. 

"  I  am  Abraham  Lincoln,"  he  said,  as  if  he 
were  introducing  a  man  of  but  slight  import- 
ance, ''and  yon  are  ]Mr.  Davenport.  I  was  ex- 
pecting you."     He   took   Griffith'is   hand    and 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  211 

shook  it  warnil}',  in  the  hearty,  western  fashion, 
which,  in  ]Mr.  Lincohi's  case,  had  also  a  per- 
sonal quality  of  frankness  and  of  a  certain  hu- 
man longing  for  that  contact  of  the  real  with 
the  real  which  it  is  the  function  of  civilization 
to  wipe  out. 

"  I  would  have  known  you  any  place,  Mr.  Lin- 
coln," began  Griffith.     ''  Your  pictures *' 

"  Anybody  would,"  broke  in  the  President, 
with  his  inimitable  facial  relaxation,  which  was 
not  a  smile,  but  had  in  it  a  sense  of  humor 
strue'srliiic:  to.  free  it  from  its  somber  cast,  "••  any- 
body  would.  My  pictures  are  ugly  enough,  l)ut 
none  of  'em  ever  did  my  ugliness  full  justice,  but 
then  they  never  look  like  anybody  else.  I  re- 
member once,  out  in  Sangamon  county,  I  said  if 
ever  I  saw  a  man  who  was  worse  looking  than  I, 
rd  give  him  my  jack-knife.  The  knife  was 
brand  new  then."' 

He  ran  his  hand  through  his  stiff,  black  hair 
and  gave  it  an  additional  air  of  disorder  and 
stubbornness.  He  had  placed  a  chair  for  Grif- 
fith and  taken  one  himself.  He  crossed  one 
long  leg  over  the  other  and  made  a  pause. 

Griffith  was  waiting  for  the  end  of  his  story. 


21: 


.IX   I  'XOFFICI.  1  L   1\  1  Tino  T. 


]Ie  concluded  tluit  tlicrc  ^\■as  to  be  no  end,  and 
lie  ventured  a  (quizzical  (^ueiT : 

'■  You  don"t  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  are  ear- 
]'}-ing"  that  knife  }-i't.  Mr.  President  ?'" 

Ijotli  laughed.  ( Irillilli  felt  strangel}'  at  home 
already  \\ith  this  ^^■(ln(l!•rfnl  man.  lie  did  not 
realize  that  it  was  this  particular  aim  which  had 
actuated  Mr.  Lincoln  from  the  moment  he  had 
t'litered  the  rnom.  'I'liis  I'cader  and  leader  of 
men  had  taken  the  plan  of  his  leyal  j'eai's,  and 
was  takiny  lime  to  analyze  his  L;'uest  while  he 
threw  him  (iff  his  i^aiaj'tl.  In  the  midst  of  the 
laUL;h  he  stretched  out  his  lony  leg  and  dived 
into  his  trousers*  pocket. 

••  Xo,  sir,  you  may  not  believe  it,  but  that's 
not  the  same  knife  !  I  cariied  the  other  one — 
well — I  reckon  it  nuist  have  been  as  much  as 
fifteen  years — with  that  offer  open.  It  lost  its 
beauty— and  I  didn't  gain  mine.  It  was  along- 
in  the  fifties  somewhere,  when  one  day  I  was 
talking  with  a  client  of  nunc  on  the  corner  of 
the  main  street  in  Springlield,  ami  along  came  a 
fellow  and  stopped  A\ithin  ten  feet  of  us.  I 
looked  at  him  ami  he  looked  at  me,  and  we  l)oth 
looked  into  a  looking-gla.ss  in  the  store  window. 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  213 

I'd  tried  to  be  an  honoraljle  man  all  my  life,  and 
hard  as  it  was  to  part  willi  an  old  friend,  I  felt 
it  was  my  duty  to  give  liim  that  knife — and  I 
did." 

There  was  a  most  solemn  expression  on  his 
host's  face.  Griffith  laughed  heartily  again. 
The  President  Avas  gazing  straight  before  him. 

"  I  don't  know  \\'here  that  man  came  from, 
and  I  don't  know  where  he  went  to,  but  he  won 
that  knife  fair  and  square.  I  was  a  good  deal 
of  a  beauty  compared  to  him  !  " 

The  very  muscles  of  his  face  twinkled  with 
humor.  No  one  would  have  felt  the  homeliness 
of  his  face,  lit  as  it  now  was  in  its  splendid  rug- 
gedness,  with  the  light  and  glory  of  a  great  and 
tender  soul  playing  with  its  own  freaks  of  fancy. 

But  before  the  laugh  had  died  out  of  Grif- 
fith's voice,  the  whole  manner  of  the  President 
had  changed.  He  had  opened  the  pen-knife 
and  was  drawing  the  point  of  the  blade  down  a 
line  on  the  large  map  which  lay  on  the  table 
beside  him. 

"  Morton  tells  me  that  you  used  to  be  a  cir- 
cuit-rider down  in  these  mountains  here,  and 
that  you  know  every  pass,  defile  and  ford  in  the 


•J  14  AX   I'yoFFK  lAL  PAT  11 1  or. 

SlatL'.""  lie  li>i)k(Ml  sti'iiiylit  ;it  Grillilli  and  I'Uii 
Ills  _L;Tc'aU  ])n\\\'  liaml  ox'rr  Lis  head  aii<l  taci',  but 
\\L'iil  hastily  <)ii  :  "1  know  Imw  tliat  is  myself. 
T'sc'd  ti>  lie  a  kiii^lit  df  llic  saildk'liag's  out  in 
Illiiuiis.  alone;-  akout  llie  same  time — only  my 
ciiTuil  ^vas  Ir^'al  and  yonrs  was  elerieal.  I  ear- 
I'ied  lUai-kslone  in  ni}'  saddlebags — after  I  got 
aide  to  own  a  eO])y — and  yon  had  a  liihle,  I 
reekoii — \()lumes  of  the  law  iii  l)oth  eases!  Let 
me  see.      How  long  ago  AA'as  that '!" 

'•'•I  began  in  t\Aenty-nine,  Mr.  President,  and 
rode  eireiiit  for  ten  }'ears.  Then  I  A^as  hjeated 
and  traiLsfen-ed  the  regular  way  eaeh  one  or  two 
years  up  to  lifty-three.  That — year- — I — left — 
my — native — state." 

^\v.  Tineolu  notieed  the  hesitancy  in  the  last 
words,  the  change  in  the  tone,  the  toueli  of  sad- 
ness, lie  inferred  at  once  that  what  Senator 
]\Iorton  had  told  him  of  this  man's  loyalty  liad 
had  something  to  do  with  his  leaving  the  old 
home. 

''  Found  it  healthier  for  you  to  go  West, 
did  you  ?  Traveled  toward  tlie  setting  sun. 
AVanted  to  keep  in  the  daylight  as  long  as  you 
could  ;  but  I  see  you  took  the  memory  of  the 


^.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATEIOT.  215 


dear  old  home  with  you.     Have  you  never  Ijeeu 
back  ?  *' 

''  I  don't  h:)ok  like  nuu-h  of  an  outlaw,  do  I, 
Mr.  Lincoln  ?  "  asked  (Irifhth,  with  a  sad  smile. 

''  Can't  say  I  Avould  take  you  for  one,  no." 
The  President  turned  a  full,  long,  searching  look 
upon  him. 

"Well,  I  liave  never  been  back — home — I — 
I  left  two  freed  slaves  in  the  State  when  I  came 
away,  and,  you  know " 

]Mr.  Lincoln  laughed  for  the  first  time  alond. 
"  Ha,  ha,  ha.  ha,  ha  I  You  remind  me  of  a  case 
we  had  out  in  Illinois.  There  was  an  old  fellow 
trying  to  stock  a  pond  he  had  with  fish.  Well, 
that  pond  Avas  so  close  to  town  and  so  handy, 
that  the  boys — some  of  'em  about  as  old  as  you 
and  me — caught  'em  out  as  fast  as  he  put  'em  in. 
By  and  by  his  son  got  into  the  Legislature,  and 
one  day  when  there  wasn't  a  great  deal  of  otlier 
law  to  make  or  to  spoil,  he  got  the  other  members 
to  vote  for  a  bill  to  punish  anybody  for  taking 
anytliing  out  of  that  pond.  His  bill  said,  '  for 
fishing  anything  out  of  that  pond.'  Well,  one 
day  a  little  son  of  his  fell  in  and  got  so  far  from 
shore  before  they  saw  him  that  they  had  to  liter- 


210  AX  UNOFFICIAL   PATUIor. 


allv  lish  liiiu  out  wilh  a  })()le.  Soiiie  (if  llic  lisli- 
eniU'U  around  tlicrt'  waiitiMl  liini  airt'sted  for 
violisliou  of  till'  law  lie  liad  passt-d  to  hit  tliem. 
— Fact  I  lie  and  you  aiv  ahout  the  same  sort 
of  eriniiiials."  Tie  turned  to  the  map  ag'aiii. 
'■  (_)f  eourse  I  undei'stand  what  you  mean.  \  es, 
yes,  I  know.  These  very  passes  and  fords  are 
de.ir  to  \on.  Some  people  have  that  sort  of  at- 
tachments. I  lnve.  Wdiy.  I'd  h'cl  lihe  gettiiiL;- 
(low  11  off  (T  mv  hoi'si.'  at  many  a  place  out  on  my 
old  circuit  and  just  makiiiL;'  love  to  the  very 
earth  heneaih  \n\  feet  I  <  K  I  know  how  you 
feel  !  These  old  foi'ds  are  old  friends.  .As  you 
rode  alon^-  at  another  place,  certain  tliou^hts 
came  to  \ou.  and  l-;e})t  \>m  com^umy  for  miles. 
They  would  come  hack  lo  ycairi^ht  there  again, 
liight  over  there  was  a  soi'iowful  memory.  You 
knew  the  hirds  that  nested  in  this  dellle,  and 
you  stop})ed  and  put  the  little  fellows  ha(;k  in 
the  nest  ^^ilen  they  had  fallen  out — and  they 
Avero  not  afraid  of  you.  T  know  how  that  is. 
The_y  never  were  afi'aid  of  me — none  but  the 
yellowdegged  chickens."  Tie  smiled  in  his 
quizzical  way.  He  was  still  testing  and  study- 
ing his  guest,  while  keeping  him  off  his  guard, 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  217 


and  nuildiii;-  him  forget  the  President  in  his  re- 
lations Avitli  tlie  man. 

Griffith  liad  l)eg'un  to  Avondci'  how  lie  could 
know  ahout  those  birds  and  woodland  friends  of 
long  ago,  Init  the  yellow-legged  ehieken  joke 
was  so  familiar  to  the  preaehcr  that  he  smik'd 
absently,  as  in  duty  bound. 

"  I'm  really  glad  to  know  that  there  are  other 
circuit-riders  than  Ave  of  the  cloth  who  strike 
terror  to  the  inmates  of  the  barnyard,  but  I 
never  befoi'e  heard  an}-  one  else  accused  of  it." 

'^  I  ]'emend)er.  once,"  l)egan  Mr.  Lincoln,  re- 
crossing  his  long  legs  and  taking  up  the  pen- 
knife again — ''I  rememl)er,  once,  when  a  lot  of 
us  were  riding  over  to  a  neighboring  town  from 
Springfield.  I  had  the  Avroiig  end  of  a  case,  I 
know,  and  was  feeling  pretty  chilly  along  the 
spine  whenever  I  thought  of  it.  The  judge 
was  with  the  party,  and  the  only  way  I  ever  did 
win  that  suit  was  by  pretending  not  to  see  tlie 
cliickens  liide  under  the  corn-shocks  the  minute 
he  got  off  his  horse.  He'd  eat  a  whole  pullet 
every  meal,  and  he  got  around  so  often  they  all 
knew  him— some  by  sight  and  some  by  hear- 
say." 


iil8 


.kY   Vy OFFICIAL  PATUIOT. 


He  (li-fw  tlie  map  l(t\^"al■(l  liini  ami  imliratufl 
a  spot  l)v  ImldiiiM-  ilic  jKiiiit  (if  liis  Iciiifr  on  it. 

''  Tlifix-'s  a  stiij)  aloiiL;'  limx'.""  liu  Leyaii.  ami 
(Triilitli  ai'OM'  ami  l»':it  n\vv  \\w  ma[).  "'tlial  I 
(■aii"t  make  (.)iit.  That  sui'ins  to  Lu  an  dpeiiing 
in  tlio  ]ii(iuiUaiiis  :   l)i;l '" 

'••  Xo — nil."*  said  (iril'litli.  tal^iui^-  np  a  pencil 
fmni  the  talilc  ••  Xn  :  the  real  optMiin^'^-the 
road  ])ass —  I.(;l  me  see:  ^\hat  s  tlie  seah'  ot 
mih's  here  ?  M-m-m  I  I-^mr?  X'o —  W'liy. 
tlie  mad  pass  is  at  lea^t  live  miles  t'anlier  (Ui." 
lie  dre\v  a  liiK.'.  ••  ^  lai  see.  it's  like  lliis. 
Thel'e.""  lie  slopped  and  slioolv  liis  heaik 
'•]\I-m-m!  Xo.  n-o-o :  tliat  map's  all  wrong. 
It  ought  to  rnn  ahing  tht/re — so.  This  way. 
The  road — the  irn'jim  ro.id — trends  along  liere — 
so.  Then  yoti  g(~)  across  the  ridge  at  an  angle 
here — so.  Thei'e  onglit  tc)  Ije  a  stream  here. 
( )  }isliaw  I  this  map's —  AVliei'e  did  you  get  this 
ma}>  ?  It's  no  aeemuit.  at  all.  '\\'liy.  aeeording 
to  this,  there's  at  least  seven  miles  left  ont  right 
here,  lictween —  Why.  ilghi  here,  where 
they've  g(it  those  little,  insignilieant-looking 
foothills,  is  one  of  the  most  rugged  and  impas- 
s;al)le  places  in  this  world  I     Here,  now  I  "     He 


^l.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATIilOT.  219 

drew  several  lines  and  turned  the  map.  '*  O 
psliaw  !  there's  no  place  left  now  for  the — 
Here,  right  a-l>o-ii-t  h-e-r-e — no,  there,  right 
there — is  the  Bedolph  estate — fine  old  stone 
house,  corn-fields,  Avheat,  orehards — a  sjjlendid 
place.  Then,  as  you  go  up  this  way,  you  pass  into 
a  sort  of  pocket — a  little  strip  pretty  well  hedged 
in.  You  couldn't  go  with  a  carriage  without 
making  a  circuit  around  here — this  way — but  a 
horseman  can  cut  all  that  off  and  go — so.  See? 
There  is  a  mill — fine  old  mill  stream — right 
here — runs  this  way." 

]Mr.  Lincoln  had  followed  every  line  eagerly, 
making  little  vocal  sounds  of  understanding,  or 
putting  in  a  single  word  to  lead  Griffith  on. 
Suddenly  he  said  : 

"  You're  a  good  Union  man  ^Morton  tells  me." 

"  I  am,  indeed,  Mr.  Lincoln.  Nobody  in  the 
world  could  be  more  sorry  than  I  over  the  pres- 
ent situation.     I " 

"  How  sorry  are  you  ?  " 

"  What  do  3-ou'  mean  ? "  asked  Griffith, 
straightening  up.  j\L'.  Lincoln  arose  at  the 
same  time. 

"  How   much    of    a    Union  man  are   you  ? — 


220  .1^"  ry OFFICIAL  I'ATuior. 

'iiou^li  to  lirlp  save  it?  }\o\v  sori'v  are  you? — 
.soiTA"  eiioUL;li  to  act  ?  "' 

Ciril'lilli  liad  almost  i'oigoltcu  wliv  lie  was 
liere.  It  all  came  l)ark  to  him.  He  l)e!.;aii  to 
breathe  hard. 

''I  ha\'e  acl('(l.  I  have  hcl]icil,""  he  said, 
nlo^•ill!J;  towai'il  ihc  A\'iiido\\\  '•  When  you  came 
in  tlie  I'oom  I  ^\■as  looking-  tliroiiL;!!  ihosc  line 
glasses  ol  y(Uii's  at  that  hihlge.  aero,>s  A\liicli  I 
came  in  hi'ly-thrcc.  scll'-i'xilcd,  hastening  to 
escape  from  tiie  hoiidage  of  ownership,  and,  at 
the  last,  from  llie  legal  p(_'nall  v  of  leaving  l)e- 
hind  me  two  freeil,  runaway  negroes.  "  He  Iiad 
lifted  the  glasses  to  his  e\'es  again.  '*  I  thought 
then  that  1  had  done  my  full  duty — (d/  of  it. 
lUit  since  then  I  ha,\e  given  my  three  sons  to 
ynu — to  my  country.      They "" 

]Mr.  Tdncoln's  luuscular  hand  rested  on  Grif- 
litlTs  shoulder. 

"•  Look  at  tliat  hiidge  again.  Do  you  see 
any  dead  men  on  it  ?  Do  you  sec  young  sons 
like  3'our  own  dragging  bleeding  limbs  across 
it  ?  Do  Y(^u  sec  teiTor-stricken  horses  strug- 
gling Avith  and  trampling  down  those  wounded 
boys  ?     Do  you  see " 


AX  UNOFFICIAL  PATBIOT.  221 

Griffith  turned  to  look  at  liini,  in  .surprise. 

"  Xo,"  he  said,  "  nothing  of  the  kinth  There 
are  a  few  sokliers  moving'  about  down  this  side, 
but  there's  nothing  of  that  kind." 

He  offered  the  glasses  to  the  President,  who 
waved  them  away. 

"  I  don't  need  them  I"  and  au  inexpressibl}' 
sad  expression  crossed  his  face.  '^  I  don't  need 
them.  I  have  seen  it.  I  saw  it  all  one  day.  I 
saw  it  all  that  night  as  it  trailed  past  here. 
I  heard  the  groans.  The  l)lood  was  under  that 
Avindow.  I  have  seen  it  I  I  have  seen  notliing 
else  since.  If  you  have  never  seen  a  panic  of 
wounded  men,  pray  to  your  God  that  you  never 
may  I"  The  sorrowful  voice  Avas  attuned  now 
to  the  sorrowful,  the  tragic  face.  ''  Do  you 
see  that  lounge  over  there  ?  "  He  pointed  to 
the  other  side  of  the  room.  '•  ]Men  thiidc  it  is  a 
great  thing  to  be  a  President  of  a  great  nation 
— and  so  it  is,  so  it  is ;  yet  for  three  nights 
while  you  slept  peacefully  in  your  bed  I  lay 
there,  when  I  wasn't  reading  telegrams  or  re- 
ceiving messages,  not  knowing  what  would 
come  next — waiting  to  be  ready  for  whatever  it 
might  be." 


.1,Y   UXOFFICIAL  PAriUOT. 


lie  ^\■aite(l  for  the  full  effect  of  his  words, 
but  (Jrilhlli  (lid  not  speak. 

''I  Avas  wailiny  to  l)e  rea(h'  for  wlialevci'  did 
come,"*  he  repealed,  slowlv,  '-and  to  Lj'ive  my 
whole  soul,  mind,  heart,  iulelleet,  and  I)ody.  if 
need  he,  to  my  eountrv  s  sei'viee.  I  eould  not 
sit  back  in  mv  arm-idiair  and  say  that  I  liave 
done  mv  shai'e  —  I  had  done  enou^'h  I  Tf  I 
knew  how  to  save  or  pi'event  a  repelition  of 
that  hoi'i'or,  had  I  done  my  share  —  had  I  done 
my  dulv — until  I  i/id  pieveiit  it?"' 

(ii'iriilh  l)e^'aii  to  luiderstand.  lie  saidc  heav- 
ily into  a  cliafr,  and  drew  his  hand  slowly  civer 
his  forelicad  ai^'ain  and  a2;ain.  His  eyes  were 
closed,  but  the  President  was  studying;'  the  face 
grindv  as  he  went  on  :  ■•'  If  a.  man  Is  di'owuing, 
have  vou  done  your  whole  duty  if  you  swim  to 
shore  and  call  back  to  hiui  that  you  got  out? 
If "" 

'^  ]Mr.  Lincoln,  T '"  l)egau  Griflith,  but  the 

astute  man  heard  still  a  note  of  protest  in  tlie 
voice  under  tlie  note  of  pain,  and  he  did  not 
allow  him  to  tinisli. 

'•'  If  there  is  l)ut  one  way  to  stop  all  this  hor- 
rible suffering,  this  awful  carnage,  and  there  is 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


some  one  ^^'llo  knows  \\c,\x  to  do  it,  wlio  is  re- 
sponsible for  its  continuance?  This  Union  is 
going  to  be  maintained  if  tliere  is  not  a  soul  left 
to  enjoy  its  blessings  but  the  widows  and 
orphans  the  war  for  its  life  has  made  I  "  he  said, 
bringing  his  great  yiuscular  fist  down  on  the 
table,  and  Griffith  opened  his  eyes  and  sat  star- 
ing at  him  Avith  a  pain-distorted  face.  '•'•  This 
war  is  not  for  fun !  It  is  not  waged  for  con- 
quest!  It  is  not  our  choice;  but  the  people  of 
this  Nation  have  placed  me  at  the  head  of  this 
Nation  to  sustain  its  integrity— to  maintain  tliis 
Union  against  all  foes,  and  by  the  Eternal  I  am 
going  to  do  it !  You  will  help  us  if  indeed  you 
are  a  Union  man  I  You  will  desert  us  in  our 
hour  of  need  if  you  are  simply  a  self-indulgent 
moralist,  wdio  feeds  expensive  pap  to  his  personal 
conscience,  but  gives  a  stone  to  his  starving 
neighbor !  This  Government  needs  you.  It 
needs  exactly  Avhat  you  are  able  to  give.  Are 
you  its  friend  or  its  enemy  ?  " 

Griffith  liad  shifted  his  position  uneasily  as 
the  torrent  of  words  had  poured  from  the  lips 
of  the  fire-inspired  man  before  him.  Lincoln's 
long  arm  had  flung  out  toward  him  with  a  gest- 


•224  - 1  -V   ( ^y  OFFICIAL  PA  TU  lOT. 

lU'L' of  lipjieal,  l)iit  lie  <li<l  init  wait  I'd-  a  i*'i'iy. 
lie  IkuI  not  iliiislu'd  piL'si'iitiiiL;-  tliO  ca^t.'  i.i  ; 
li'^lit  in  \\'liirli  lie  felt  sntt'  it  would  loiirh  vlit 
L'liaiacter  of  tlie  man  l)"foiv  liiui. 

'•  Arc  your  small  personal  m-cls  pai-anioiiiu  \ 
those  of  vour  coiuilry'/  lla\'c  you  no  [ainoi- 
ism?  Have  \'ou  no  ///(■/■.7/  u])oii  oiu'  soldiei's  . 
]\Iust  ]nore  liundreds  of  lliem  suif'er  dei'eat  and 
death  foi' tlie  lack  of  what  //"/^  can  ^ive  them? 
Are  you  billing  to  receive  the  henetits  of  a  free 
country  wliich  you  arc  not  willing  to  liclp  in 
her  liour  of  greatest  nee(l  ?  Can  you — do  you^ 
A\'ant  to  leave  vour  young  sons  and  the  sons  of 
your  ueighl)ors  on  the  far  side  of  the  dead  line 
marked  hv  that  l)ridgc  ? ''  The  allusion  was  a 
chance  one,  l)ut  it  struck  home. 

Griffith  put  out  his  hand. 

'^  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  "  he  gasped, 
hoarsely. 

Tlie  President  grasped  his  liandand  held  it  in 
a  vieedike  grip.  ''  What— do — I — want — you 
— to — do  ?  ■'  he  asked,  with  a  delihei'ation 
strangely  at  variance  witli  the  passion  of  his 
words  a  moment  ago.  He  looked  dnwn  search- 
ingly,  kindly,  pityingly  into  the   troubled  eyes 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATIUOT.  225 


before  him.     '^  Wliat  do  I  ^^•ant  you  to  do  ?     I— 

^vant you  —  to  —  follo\\- — your — conscience — 

_for— the— benefit— of  —  your  —  country  —  in- 
stead —  of— for  —  your —  own  — personal — com- 
fort,— until — that —  conscience  —  tells  —  you — 
your — country — needs — you — no — longer;  that 
you  have,  in  deed  and  in  truth,  done  your  share 
fully  I     I  ^Yant  you  to  go  with  an  advance  guard 
down    through    that   very   country '"—his   long 
finger   pointed   to   the    disfigured   map   on  the 
table — ''  and  show  our  commander  the  real  topo- 
o-ra[)hy  of  that  land.     I  want  you  to  make  him 
as  familiar  with  it  as  you  are  yourself.     I  want 
you  to  show  him  where  the  passes  and  fords  are, 
where    supplies    can    be    carried   across,    where 
water  is  plenty,  and  where  both  advance  and 
retreat  are,  possible  without  useless  and  horrible 
slaughter.     I  want  you — "    He  was  still  hold- 
ing Griffith's  right  hand.     He  placed  his  left  on 
his  shoulder  again.     "  No  man  has  done  his  duty 
in  a  crisis  like  this  until  he  has  done  all  that  he 
can  to  hasten  the  dawn  of  peace  ;  "  he  lowered 
his  voice,  "  and  he  that  is  not  with  us  is  against 
us,"  he  said  solemnly,  the  scriptural  language 
15 


2-20  .I-V  T'XOFFTCTAL   PATUIOT. 

falliiiiL;'  from  his  lips  as  if  their  professions  Avcre 
reverse  mL 

'^llow  hir  (h)  you  ^vant  nie  to  j^'o  ?  "  asked 
(Jriflillu  h)ohiii^'  u\>  \\'ith  an  apjieal  in  every 
tense  nuiscle  of  liis  niiserahle  face.  *•  Tt  is  my 
native  Slate  I  They  ai-e  my  peoph'  I  T  love 
every  foot  of  i^'ronml  —  I  love  those —  '  He  \\'as 
l)realhinL;'  so  liard  he  stop[*e(l  iV»r  a  moment. 
"That  ve  do  not  think  alik(_ — tliat  they  are 
Avliat  ^■ou  eall  reht'ls  to  our  common  country — ■ 
does  not  chaiiL^'e  m\'  h)V(\      I — Mr.  Lincoln " 

The  President  si-emeij  lo  tower  up  to  a,  greater 
height  than  even  his  h inner  gigantic  altitude. 
He  threw  hoth  arms  out  in  a  sudden  passion  : 
"  Forget  3-our  love  !  I'^orget  your  native  State  I 
Forget  //iiiir-^rlf .'  Forget  ciu^riiflihi'j  except  that 
this  I^nion  must  and  shall  l)e  saved,  and  tliat//"K 
can  hasten  the  end  of  this  awful  earnage  I " 
The  storm  had  sw(>pt  over.  He  lowered  his 
voice  again,  and  with  hotli  hands  on  the  preacli- 
er\s  shoulders :  '*  I  will  agree  to  this.  AVhen 
you  have  gone  so  far  that  you  can  come  l)aclv 
here  to  me  and  say,  '  I  Jn'oir  now  tliat  I  have 
done  enougli.  ]\Iy  conscience  is  clear.  ]My 
Avliole  duty  is  done.'      AVhen  you  can  come  hack 


AX  UXOFFICIAL  PATEIOT. 


here  and  saj-  that  to  me — when  you  can  say  (if 
you  and  I  liad  changed  phices)  that  you  coukl 
ask  no  more  of  me — then  I  will  agree  to  ask  no 
more  of  you."  Then,  suddenly,  "When  will 
you  start?     To-night?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Griflith,  almost  inandibly,  and 
sank  into  a  cliair. 

Mr.  Lincoln  strode  to  the  table  and  pushed 
aside  the  disfigured  map.  "  I  will  write  joiw 
instructions  and  make  necessary  plans,"  he  said. 
"  There  is  not  nuich  to  do.  The  General  and  the 
engineer  corps  are  ready.  I  hoped  and  believed 
you  would  go."  His  pen  flew  over  the  paper. 
Then  he  paused  and  looked  at  his  visitor.  "  We 
must  fix  your  rank.  Will  j'ou  volunteer,  or 
shall  I ?" 

"  Is   that  necessary,   ]Mr.   Lincoln  ?      I  am  a 

preacher,   you  know.     I Can't   I   go  just 

as  I  am — just — as ?  " 

The  President  had  turned  again  to  the  table, 
and  was  writing.     Griffith  stepped  to  his  side. 

"  Do  you  realize,  ^h\  Lincoln,  that  every 
man,  woman .  and  child  in  that  whole  country 
will  recoo'uize  me — and ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know,  I  know.     We  must  do 


2-JS  .LY   UXOFFKIAL   PATIIIOT. 

C'V('r\'tirnig  w(j  can  In  jnotcct  you  {roiu  all  dan- 
ger— against  assassiiialimi  oi' "" 

"■  It  is  not  flidf."  said  (iril'lith,  hoarsely.  ''  Do 
you  cai-e  nothing  I'or  the  good-will — for  the  eon- 
iideiiei — of  your  old  neighbors  Ijat-k  in  Illi- 
nois ?  "' 

The  sti-oke  ^\'ent  directly  hoiiie. 

''Do  I  care  for  it?"  Thei'e  A\"as  a  long 
pause.  'I'he  sunken  eves  \\ere  di;n\'n  to  a  mere 
line.      "  rd    rather    lose    aii}"thing    else    in   this 

\\'orld.      It    is    meat    and    drink   to   me.     I 

Look  here,  ^Iv.  Davenport;  don't  make  the 
mistake  of  thinking  that  I  don't  realize  what 
I'm  asking  you  to  do — that-  I  don't  see  the  saeri- 
fiee.  I  do.  T  do,  fnlly,  and  I  waid  to  do 
evervthing  I  cm  to — to  make  it  up  to  you.  I 
know  you  used  to  he  greatly  ti'usted  and  be- 
loyed  down  there.  Moi'ton  has  tohl  me.  He 
told  me  all  about  the  pathos  of  that  old  negro 
follo\\'ing  yon,  too,  and  how  yon  made  out  to 
keep  lier.  I  know,  I  know  it  all,  and  I  ^\■oTddn't 
ask  you  if  I  knew  liow  to  ayoid  it.  T  tell  you 
that  Fd  ratlier  giye  up  eyerything  else  in  this 
world  than  the  good-will  of  those  old  friends  of 
mine  back  there  in  Illinois  ;  but  if  I  liad  to  give 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  'J-iO 

up  llie  respect  and  eoulidenee  and  love  of  every 
one  of  tliem,or  forfeit  that  of  Abraham  Lincoln, 
Avho  has  s^^ol•n  to  sustain  tliis  Union,  I'd  have 
to  stick  to  old  Abe  !  It  would  g-o  hard  with  me 
—  harder  than  anything  I  know  of — l)ut  it 
would  have  to  be  done.  We  liave  (/of  to  sustain 
this  Union  !  We'll  save  her  with  slaverj-  at  the 
South  and  with  friends  to  ourselves,  if  we 
can ;  but,  by  the  Eternal !  we'll  save  her  any- 
how ! " 

He  struck  over  and  over  the  same  chord — tlie 
Union  must  be  saved.  Every  road  led  back  to 
that  one  point.  Every  argument  hinged  upon 
it.  Every  protest  was  met  by  it.  He  ham- 
mered down  all  other  questions. 

'•'-  If  we  are  Union  men,  this  is  the  time  and 
the  place  to  show  it.  All  other  objects,  mo- 
tives, methods,  private  interests,  tastes,  loves  or 
preferences  must  yield  to  the  supreme  test — 
What  are  we  willing  to  do  to  save  the  Union  ?  " 

Once  he  said  : 

"  You  don't  suppose  my  position  is  particu- 
larly agreeable,  do  you  ?  Do  you  fancy  it  is 
easy,  or  to  my  liking  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  Mr.  President,  of  course  not.     I  un- 


•230  .l^V  rXOFFiriAL  PATHIOT. 


Llorstaiid  that ;  ]_)ut  you  are  liolding  a  pul)lic 
otlioe.  ;ui(l *' 

'"  So  are  vott,*'  canie  like  a  shot.  •'  Tu  tiiiics  like 
this  ifJI  men  who  are  or  wlio  liave  heeu  trusted  l)v 
llieir  I'eHow  men,  are  now.  in  a  seirs^,  leatk'rs — 
are  in  a  pul)lie  positi(~)n.  Idieir  inlhience  is  for  or 
a^'ainst  tliis  Union.  There  is  no  neutral  L;'roun(k 
I've  already  l)eeu  driven  a  good  deal  farther  than 
T  ever  expeeted  to  have  to  go,  and  it  looks  as  if 
I'd  have  to  juinp  several  more  fences  yet  :  l)ut 
voudl  see  me  jum[)  "em  when  the  time  eomes.  or 
ril  l)reak  my  neek  trying  it  !  ""  lie  ^^-heeled 
lja(dc  to  tile  table.  '■  Here,  why  not  let  me  }iut 
yoit  down  as  a  chaplain?  Cany  yoit  on  the 
rolls  that  way'?     It "" 

••No,  ^Ir.  Lincoln,  that  won't  do.  I  won't 
agree  to  that.  If  I  go  it  is  not  as  cluqilain.  We 
know  that,  and  there  must  l)e  no  }iretense.  I 
will  not  use  my  ministerial  standing  as  a  cloak. 
I ■• 

"'  Yoit  are  right,  too.  I  wouldn't,  myself. 
Then  you  won't  lie  with  any  one  division  long 
at  a  time.  You'll  have  to  transfer  as  the  need 
comes.     Let  me  see — m-m-m " 

'•  If  I  do  this  thine  I  will  do  it  outrio-ht.     I'll 


.l.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  231 


ask  one  thing  of  you — I  don't  ^vant  it  known  ; 
for,  of  course,  uone  of  my  friends  can  under- 
stand the  way  you  h)ok  at  it  and  the  way  you 
have  made  me  see  it.  But  when  I  go,  I'll  want 
a  good  horse,  and  I'll  ride  in  the  lead.  I'll  not 
stay  back  as  a  chaplain,  nor  sutler,  nor  as  any- 
thing but  as  what  I  shall  be,  God  help  me  !  a 
guide  !  " 

"  Well,  suppose  we  just  call  you  that — Gov- 
ernment Guide.  But  since  it  is  to  be  such  ex- 
traordinary service — so  vital  to  our  cause — we'll 
make  your  pay  extraordinary,  too.  How  does 
a  colonel's  pay  strike  you  ?  " 

Griflith  was  on  his  feet  in  a  flash.  lie  stood 
looking  straight  at  the  President,  who  had  not 
turned  as  he  asked  the  question.  The  hands  of 
the  preacher  were  grasping  the  back  of  his 
chair. 

"  On  the  pay-roll,"  began  ]Mr.  Lincoln,  "  you 

will  appear  as "' 

"  Pay-roll !  Pay-roll !  "  burst  from  Griffith, 
and  the  President  turned.  The  expression  of 
the  preacher's  face  was  a  complete  surprise,  but 
the  astute  man  understood  it  instantly.  Grif- 
fith   was   moving    toward     the    door.      "Mr. 


AX  rX OFFICIAL  rAmiOT. 


Liiu'olii,  you  do  not  iinder.staiKl  me.  You  luivo 
mistaken  Y(^ur  man  !     A'ou — I " 

The  President  lia.d  inllowed  liim  hastily  and 
his  own  hand  readied  tlie  door  lirst. 

"  Stop  !  '"  he  said  kindly.  "  It  is  //ok  m'Iio  do 
not  understand  ii/<\     I "" 

"I  understood  you  twiee  to  sa\' — to  offer  to 
fii/f/  me  to  k'ad  a,  hostile  army — t(j  take  troops 
into — to  the  liomes  of- ^"" 

"  Xh),  no.  don"t  look  at  it  that  way.  It  is 
rij^'ht    you    should     have    some — sonu' — raidc — 

and "      lie  was  ^'oIul;'  to  utter  again  the  A\ord 

pay,  liut  did  not.  Suddeidy  he  thought  of  a 
way  out  of  thedilenuua. 

''  You  sfe.  it  is  like  this.  You've  got  to  liave 
gruli — I'atic^ns.  Now,  we  ean't  issue  rations  to 
men  \\ho  don't  (.■xist— a.in't  doing  some  soii  of 
service,  don't  y'  see  ?  Then  suppose  you  should 
be  eaptnrL'(l.  I  don't  want  to  suppose  any- 
thing of  the  kind,  and  of  course  Ave've  got  to 
take  every  })ossil)le  jireeaution  against  such  a 
disaster — hut  sup})0se  you  frwr  eaptui'ed,  unless 
you  are  recognized  as — unless  you  have  some 
status — we  can't  reipiire  the  rehels  to  treat  you  as 
a  [)risoner  of  war  and  exchange  you  for  some 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


officer.  We've  got  to  arnuige  so  you  will  be 
treated  as  a  regular,  and  an  ini]^)ortant  prisoner 
of  war —  don't  you  see?  "  The  dangerous  shoals 
were  being  skilfull}'  crossed.  The  sagacious 
lawyer  and  reader  of  men  was  retrieving  his 
blunder.  He  passed  his  hand  through  Griffith's 
arm,  and  turned  him  from  tlie  door.  "  That 
Avas  what  I  meant !  "We'll  have  to  carry  you, 
somehow,  on  the  rolls — for  rations  and  things. 
You'll  mess  with  the  General,  of  course,  and 
we'll  see  that  3'ou  have  the  very  best  horse  in 
the   army — you  see,  I   know  the   circuit  rider's 

weakness.     The  fact  is "     He   was   leading 

Griffith  back  to  the  table  ^diere  the  great  disfig- 
ured map  lay— where  he  deftly  slipped  the  paper 
containing  the  half-written  instructions,  upon 
which  the  subject  of  pay  had  been  begun,  under 
its  edge,  took  another  sheet  in  its  stead,  and 
began  anew  with  the  rank  and  the  pay  left  out. 


2o4  .IX  T'XOFFTrTAL   r ATT! JOT. 


''Into  the  v;illi'\'  of  deaili."  —  'Trnii;/sn)). 

It  was  arraiig'L'iI  lliat  llu'  (•ounnaiid  ^\•illl  ^v]li^■ll 
Grillitli  inovi'd  slioi'.ld.  so  far  as  Avas  possiljle, 
avoid  I'ollisiou  A\'itlL  llic  enemy  :  move  silently, 
swifllv  or  sloVi'lv  as  oeeasioii  demanded,  but  at 
all  times  do  everything-  jxissiLle  to  i^'ive  to  the 
topoL;raphieal  en^^'ineers  a-  elear,  distinet  and 
minute  hnowledye  of  the  t-(nintry,  so  that  in 
futui'e  intelligent  aetion  eould  Le  sustained. 
It  M'as  thought  'wise  to  take  as  fe\v  troops  as 
safetv  would  permit,  and,  Avherever  kno^^  ledge 
of  tlie  proxinuty  of  the  Southeru  forees  Avas 
olitained  iu  time,  take  some  othei'  road  or  retire 
tempora-rily  to  the  seelusion  of  the  mountains. 
All  lighting  was,  if  possihle,  to  l)e  avoided. 
This  Avas  the  plan  of  operations.  jVt  tiihes 
they  were  far  inside  the  enemy's  lines,  but 
at    distant    points    from    the    opposing   foree. 


.l.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  235 

At  other  times  the}'  were  again  camped  for 
a  niglit  with  some  advance  division  of  the 
federal  troops  fartlier  nortlnvard.  To  those 
to  whom  their  ol)ject  Avas  nnknown,  their 
movements  would  have  seemed  unaccountable, 
indeed. 

In  road  or  pass  or  village,  many  a  familiar  face 
did  Griffith  see,  and  his  relief  was  intense,  if  no 
look  of  recognition  came  into  it.  His  fatigue 
coat,  from  ^^'hich  the  brass  l)uttons  had  been 
taken,  and  broad-ljrimmed,  cord-decorated 
military  hat,  served  as  something  of  a  disguise 
with  those  whio  had  never  seen  him  in  otlier 
than  clerical  garb.  Often  a  sharp  pain  shot 
through  his  heart  as  he  lode  through  some  one 
of  his  old  circuits,  and  a  one  time  friendly  face 
looked  up  at  him,  at  first  with  simply  the 
curiosity  and  dislike  bestowed  upon  the  staff 
officers  of  a  liostile  force,  and  then  with  a  sudden 
flash  of  recognition,  there  would  come,  also,  a 
look  of  bitter  personal  resentment,  not  meant 
for  the  staff,  Ijut  for  that  son  of  the  Soutli,  who, 
as  they  felt,  was  betraying  his  friends.  Wliat  his 
position  or  rank  was  they  did  not  know.  His 
uniform  was  that  of  a  civilian,  exceiDting  only 


.i:V"  UNOFFICIAL  PAIllIOT. 


tlic  hat;  but  lliat  lie  was  in  and  witli  and  of  the 
invading-  arniv  A\as  enough.  The  infoiniatioii 
spread  like  wildtire. 

"(iril'lilh  Davenpoi't  is  \\\i\\  a  brigade  of 
Yankees!  lie  knows  every  inch  of  this 
coimtiy  !  "  AVhat  ihis  meant  to  l)Oth  sides,  Avas 
quickly  understood.  IJittcrness  increased.  That 
lie  should  l)e  shot  at  the  first  op[)orlunity  was 
nniversallv  conceded,  (iril'iilh  saw  ami  fell  it 
keenly.  It  made  his  heart  too  heavy  for  words. 
Ai  fii'st  he  spoke  to  the  (ieiieral  :  ••  I  knew  that 
man,  (ieiieral.  He  reeog'iiized  me.  Did  }'oii 
see  how  he  turned  suddenly  t(^  look  again? 
Did  you  see '/ "' 

''Yes,  I  noticed,  and  I  saw  the  look  of  hate, 
danni  him ;  but  you  needn't  lie  afraid.  The 
first  time  any  assassination  business  is  tried 
they  will  hnd  who  they  have  got  to  deal  w'wh. 
I'll  burn  every  (iod-damned  house  I  come  to,  and 
shoot  several  eilizens  in  retaliation  I  Oh,  I'm 
not  half  so  mild  as  I  look  I  Don't  you  be 
afraid  I  They'll  all  think  hell  has  broke  loose  on 
earth,  if  they  fire  from  ainljush  at  you  !  They'll 
have  to  get  you  in  open  l)attle,  if  they  want 
to   be  treated  with   soldierly  eonsideration,  and 


.-LV  UXOFFirjAL   PATRIOT.  237 

Avc  don't  inte'iid  you  to  be  in  ;iiiy  Ijattlc  ;  so  don't 
y(_)U  ]x' " 

''It  is  not  tliat  !  It  is  not  tliat,  General, " 
Griffith  would  say.     He  tried  to  explain. 

"  Well,  heavens  and  earth  I  Wliat  did  you 
expect  ?  You  didn't  expect  'em  to  li/cc  it,  did 
you  ?  " 

Griffith  sighed  and  gave  it  np.  Xo,  he  did 
not  expect  them  to  like  it.  lie  did  not  even 
hope  tliat  they  couhl  understand  it  fairly,  and 

yet The  home-coming  was  indeed  bitter,  and 

Griffitli  ceased  to  sing.  He  saw  maps  made  of 
the  places  he  loved,  and  lie  saw  in  tlie  distance 
the  peaceful  old  haunts  filled  with  contending 
armies.  He  looked  at  the  ti'ees  that  were  still 
old  and  warm  and  loyal  fiiends,  in  spite  of  dif- 
ference of  creed  or  politics,  and  he  dreamed  of 
them  Avhen  they  should  l)e  lopped  of  their 
branches  and  torn  v.'itli  shot  and  shell  as  tliej^ 
tried  vainh^  to  shield  with  their  own  sturdy  limbs 
those  who  knew  no  better  tlian  to  fight  the 
battles  of  this  life  Avith  swoi'd  and  gun.  One 
day,  as  he  rode  slowly  in  advance  of  the  rest,  he 
suddenly  looked  up  toward  the  gnarled  branch 
of  a  great  tree,  wdiere   he  recalled   that  an   old 


238  AX  UNOFFICIAL  PATIUOT. 

friend  of  his  liad  lived.  'Die  beads  of  three 
tiny  8(j^uirrels  peeped  out,  and  the  mother  frisked 
hard  hy.  *•' All,"  he  said,  aloud,  ••how  do  you 
do,  Bunnie?  Still  living"  at  the  old  home-place, 
I  see  !  Is  it  you  or  your  gi'eat-grandehildren  ? 
There's  .such  a  strong  family  likeness  I  can't 
tell."  The  litth?  animal  wliisked  nearer,  and 
looked  with  curious  eyes  that  were  not  afraid. 
'•  You  do  not  hlame  me.  and  \nn  do  not  liate 
me,  and  von  do  not  fear  me.  Bunnie.  Y'>ii  un- 
derstand me  helter  than  men  do,  after  all.''  lie 
sighed  and  toss(.'d  a  hit  of  cracker  toward  the 
nest.  It  fell  hir  short,  hut  tlie  mother-squiri'cl 
whisked  aliout  here  and  there,  and  flipped  her 
tail  and  posed  ;  Init  at  last  snatched  up  the  prof- 
fered gift  and  scampered  up  the  tree.  Griffith 
smiled. 

"  I've  broken  bread  with  one  of  my  old  friends 
at  last,"  he  said  al()ud. 

'•'•  AVhat  did  you  sav  ?  "  asked  the  General, 
halting  suddenly.  lie  had  lowered  his  voice  to 
the  danger  pitch,  as  lie  had  mistaken  Griffith's 
low  tone  for  one  of  caution.  lie  lifted  his 
hand,  and  each  of  his  officers  down  the  line  did 
the  same.     There  was  an  instant  halt. 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  239 

"What  was  it?"  lie  asked  again,  under  his 
breath. 

"  A  nest  of  squirrels  right  where  they  were 
fifteen  or  twenty  years  ago.  I  was  renewing  the 
acquaintance.  Th^i/  were  the  first  old  friends 
that  have  not  l)een  afraid  of — who  trusted  me 
still.     I  was " 

A  volley  of  oaths  burst  forth.  "  Attention  ! 
]\Iarch  !  "  he  commanded,  and  as  the  line  officers 
repeated  the  command,  the  General's  wrath 
waxed  furious.  He  did  not  dare  to  wreak  it 
directly  upon  Griflitli.  He  dashed  back  down  the 
line,  swearing  with  that  lurid  facility  and  abandon 
for  which  he  was  famous,  at  the  astonished,  but 
case-hardened  and  amused  men. 

"  Halted  an  army  to  talk  to  a  God-damned 
squirrel !  "  he  ground  out  between  his  wrathful 
teeth,  as  he  rejoined  his  staff.  He  whipped  out 
a  revolver  and  fired  at  the  nest.  The  bullet  flew 
wide  of  the  mark,  but  the  little  heads  disap- 
peared in  affright.  The  staff-officers  looked  at 
each  other  and  smiled.  The  contrast  between 
the  two  at  their  head  was  a  source  of  constant, 
mild  fun. 

"  Broken  faith  with  even  you,  haven't  I,  Bun- 


AX   rXOFFICTAL   PATH  JOT. 


nil''/""  said  (Jrlliiili,  softly,  as  lie  rmle  on.  *••  Do 
you  iliiiik  1  threw  you  tlio  rracker  so  tliat  I 
foulil  the  helte'i- shoot  A'ou  ?  I  (liilu"l,  lUnuiie — 
l)ut  you  \\\\\  never  know." 

A  half-uille  further  on  ririfliili  halted.  "  Cxen- 
eral,"  he  sai<l,  ••  this  is  the  only  iihiee  for  some 
distance  now  that  we  can  halt  for  the  iiight 
under  cover  of  a  dens(,'  wood  ;ind  still  have  Abater 
near.  'J'liei'e  is  a.  ei'eek  just  helow  that  rise.  It 
is  j4-ood  watei'.  It  citrves  ai'onnd  tliis  wav,  and 
the  hoi'ses  can  l_)e  picketed  near  it  and  still  ha 
liid.  After  this  it  A\'ill  he  open  cotmtiy  hir  ten 
miles  or  more.      1 1 " 

'•Haiti  Throw  out  pickets  I  Dismount! 
lireak  raidcs  ! "' 

The  orders  were  L;'iven  and  repeated.  The 
appearance  of  a  caanp  grew  u[)  like  magic.  Xo 
fires  Avere  to  he  lighted  ttntil  scout  and  picket 
reports  came  in,  hut  the  men  went  ahoiit  feeding 
their  horses  and  making  ready  for  the  tires  and 
for  "grul),"'  as  they  called  it.  They  were  glad 
to  stretch  themselves.  It  had  been  a  long  day's 
lide. 

"  AVe  will  signal  from  the  rise  over  there, 
General,"  GrilTitli  said.     '*  If  from  there  Me  can 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PAminT.  241 

see  no  camp-fires,  there  will  be  none  near  enongli 
to   detect  ours.     Shall  I   return  liere,  General, 

or •' 

"  Return  here.  Pick  your  escort." 
Griffith  rode  away  with  histliree  sharpshooters. 
The  tired  men  watched  eagerly  for  the  signal, 
as  they  lay  about  on  the  ground.  A  shout  went 
up  when  they  saw  it,  and  fires  were  lighted  and 
rations  brought  forth.  A  young  fellow  with 
corporal's  straps  was  liumming  as  he  lay  on  his 
back  with  both  feet  far  up  on  the  body  of  a  tree. 
He  had  carried  with  him  all  day  an  empty  tin 
can,  and  now  he  was  making  coffee  in  it.  lie 
turned  from  time  to  time  to  peer  into  the  can 
or  readjust  the  sticks  as  they  burned. 

"  AVe're  tenting  to-night  on  tlie  old  camp-ground." 

His  soft  tenor  rang  out  on  the  cool  evening  air  as 

clear  as  the  note  of  a  bird,  despite  his  recumbent 

position.     He  lifted  himself  on  one  elbow  and 

jDcered  again  into  the   coffee,  l)ut  tlie   song  ran 

on — 

"  Give  us  a  song  to  clieer." 

A  group    near  him   was   deep  in  a  game  of 
cards.     "  Here  I     It's  Tows^'s  deal !     Damned, 


242  AX  UN  OFFICIAL  PATUIOT. 

if  I  d()ii"t  l)L4ieYC  Jim  M'ould  deul  every  liaiid  if 
he  "wasn't  Matched,     lie '' 

"  Our  woary  heart,  a  son;;  of  lioiin' "' 

"  Oh,  dry  up  !      Give  us  a  rest  !  '" 

"  Oueh  !     Stop  that !     If  I  don't " 

"Clulis  again,  l)y  gad  !  Every  time  Stumpy 
deals,  its  cluhs.     I  believe " 

"  And  friends  we  love  so  dear. 
Many  are  the  hearts  tliat  are  weary  to-night, 
Wishing -"' 

The  clear  tenor  liad  risen  into  steady  con- 
tinuity as  the  young  corporal  sat  half  up  to 
shake  the  tin  can  again.  The  card  dealer 
joined  in  villi  a  moclcing  hass,  tlien  suddenly, 
voice  after  voice  took  u})  the  refrain  and  tlie 
very  air  seemed  to  come  laden  villi  it,  from  far 
and  near.  The  volume  of  sound  died  A\'illi  the 
last  note  of  the  refrain,  and  once  more  the  clear 
tenor,  lying  on  his  back  nov.  villi  both  hands 
under  his  head,  ran  softly  on  alone  : 

'We've  been  tenting  to-niglit  on  tlie  old  camp-ground. 
Thinking  of  days  gone  by " 

He  drew  a  letter  from  his  breast-pocket,  and,  as 
he   unfolded  it,  stooped  over  and    took    one 


.1.^   UNOFFICIAL  PATUIOT.  '243 


swallow  of  the  coffee,  aiul  replaced  the  can  on 
the  fire.  Some  hard  tack  lay  beside  him,  and 
one  biscnit  reposed  on  his  stomach  where  he  re- 
placed it  when  he  lay  Ixick  again,  and  finished 
the  verse  slowly.  When  the  refrain  began 
again,  the  cards  were  held  down,  men  in  other 
groups  straightened  up  from  rekindling  fires, 
others  stopped  short  in  a  game  of  c[uoits  played 
with  horseshoes  picked  up  on  the  banks  of  the 
creek.  Water  carriers  set  down  their  loads,  or 
halted,  with  pails  still  in  hand,  and  added  their 
voices  to  the  melody.  The  effect  amongst  the 
trees  was  indescribable.  The  picket  in  the  dis- 
tance half  halted  in  his  tramp,  and  turned  to 
listen.  The  moon  was  beginning  to  swing  up 
over  the  liill,  from  which  the  signal  had  come, 
and  between  the  trees  it  touched  the  face  of  the 
delicate-featured  young  corporal  of  the  sweet 
voice,  and  he  turned  the  letter  to  catch  the  light 
from  it,  and  add  to  the  glow  of  the  firelight,  that 
he  might  the  better  re-read  the  treasured  words. 
He  was  still  humming  softly,  inarticulately, 
now.  A  stick  burned  in  two,  and  the  can  of 
precious  coffee  was  slowly  emptying  its  over- 
turned contents  ou  the  ground. 


244  AX  rxoFFiriAL  patliot. 


lliere  was  l)ut  one  bito  gone  from  tlie  bis- 
cuit wliieli  la\-  oil  ibf  lihie  coat.  Music  and 
st'iitimcnt  liad  triunnilHMl  ovc!'  aji[)ctile  .and  the 
vouiil;'  cor[io]'a,l  dozcil  nl'W  adcc})  now  Avitli  llio 
Ictlci'  still  in  his  baud  a-inl  tbc  nois\'  players 
al»ont  biiii.  Ill  till'  distance  (irij'litb  and  bis  es- 
cort \vere  I'eiurnini;-.  Suibb'iily  a  sbot  rauL^- 
out  in  tbe  clciir  ail'!  Tlicn  aninlier  and 
anolber  I  Tbe  nii'u  wcw  mi  tbeir  b/et  in  an  in- 
stant. Tla.'  (iLaicrid  was  bastily  adjusliiiL;-  bis 
bebb^'lass,  but  in  tbc  ino(inli'^4it  it  was  ])ut 
sliu'lit  bcl|).  lie  coiUd  sec,  as  tbe  smoke 
cleared  away,  six  men  instead  of  four.  So 
mucb  be  could  mike  out.  but  no  more.  (.)ne 
M'as  beiiii^'  lifted  on  to  a  boi'sc.  All  A\'ere  dis- 
mounteil.  Tbere  was  activity  in  tbe  camp. 
Hasty  preparations  Mere  maib'  to  seufl  a  relief 
parly.  Wbo  ^as  sbot?  AVbat  did  it  mean? 
^\'as  tlu're  a;i  aml)usb?  A\'as  ibe  (niide  de- 
ceived as  to  tbe  safety  of  tliis  position  ?  Would 
tbey  liave  to  li^'bt  or  retreat?  Had  tbe  Giude 
been  killed?  Ibid  some  angry  native  seen  and 
assassinated  (Tril'litb  ?  Tbe  officers  consulted 
togetber  bastily  and  orders  Avei'c  given,  but 
the    little  procession  m'u.'^    .sbjwlj-    approacbing. 


AX  rXOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  245 

They  were  not  pursued.  At  least  there  was 
iK)t  to  he  a  hattle — and  tliere  had  heen  a 
capture,  ])ut  who  was  killed?  Tlie  Govennnent 
Guide  ?  Two  were  walking- — were  tliey  tlie 
assassin  and  liis  eoni[)anion  ?  When  the  little 
procession  reached  the  picket  line  it  halted  and 
there  was  some  readjustment  of  the  body  they 
were  carrying,  stretched  between  two  horses, 
wdiere  it  lay  motionless  except  as  others  lifted 
it.  Beside  it  walked  another  figure  not  in  the 
federal  uniform.  Tall,  lank,  grim,  and  limj)ing 
painfully,  with  a  l>l(»od-stain  on  the  shoulder 
and  a  bullet  hole  in  the  hat.  The  sharp- 
shooters had  done  their  work — l)ut  ^^dlo  was  it 
— irliat  was  it  that  lay  across  those  two  horses 
that  tliC}'  were  leading?  The  whole  camp  was 
watching  and  alert.  Cards,  quoits,  letters  had 
disappeared.  At  last  they  could  see  that  the 
Body  was  not  Griffith.  He  still  sat  astride  Ins 
splendid  chestnut  horse  and  the  relief  party  were 
talking  to  him.  The  procession  moved  to  the 
General's  tent.  Griffith  looked  pale  and 
troubled.  The  sharpshooters  were  radiant. 
The  Body  was  lifted  down,  and  its  long  pen- 
dant beard  was  matted  and  massed  with  blood. 


246  -ly   Vy OFFICIAL  rATUIOT. 


Tlie  pride,  tlio  joy,  tlio  aniljitioii  of  Whiskers 
I)iLj'g-s  \\-as  l)iouglit  lo\^•  at  last  I  lie  was  Ijreath- 
iiiL;-  still,  but  the  feehle  hand  essayed  in  vain  to 
sirnke  tlie  \()luniiiious  oi'nanient  and  and)itiou 
of  liis  life.  'I'he  liaud  huiii;'  limp  and  nian^'led 
hy  his  side.  Tlie  ( ieiiei-al  (piestioiied  the  (jther 
pi'isoiier  in  y;iin.  He  pointed  to  Grillith  and 
presei'ved  an  nnhrnken  silenee.  Grillith  spoke 
to  him  aside.  The  prisoner  turned  slowdy  to  the 
eonnnander : 

'•I'll  tell  liiiii.  Few  W(^rds  e()mprehend  tlT 
\\lioIe.""  Then  lie  lapsed  into  silenee  again  and 
notliing-  e(»nld  induce  him  to  speak.  The 
Cieneral  tlu'eatened,  coaxed  and  eonnnanded  in 
vain.  Tlie  impeilurhal)le  niotirdaineer  stood 
like  one  ^\•ho  heard  not.  All  that  the  sharp- 
shooters eotild  tell  was  soon  told.  Some  one 
had  lired  from  ambush,  apparently  at  Griflitli. 
They  had  returned  the  lire  instantly.  Then 
tliey  had  found  this  man  \\\\o  was  dying  and 
the  other  one  Ijeside  him.  "  I  know  this  man, 
General,"  said  Griffith.  "  He  says  that  he 
will  talk  to  me  alone.     ^lity  I — shall  I " 

"  He'll  talk  to  me^  God  damn  liim  I  or  he'll 
get  a  dose  of Did  you  fire  at  our  men  '?  " 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PAmiOT  247 


he  demanded  of  the  mountaineer.  Lengthy 
Patterson  .shifted  bis  position  to  relieve  his 
\voLuuh'd  k^g.  He  gazed  stoHdly,  steadily,  ex- 
pression lessly  before  him,  and  uttered  not  a 
sound.  His  gun  had  been  taken  from  him,  and 
his  hands  seemed  worse  than  useless  without 
this  his  one  and  only  com[)anion  from  whom  he 
never  separated.  The  hands  moved  about  in 
aimless  action  like  the  claws  of  some  great 
lobster. 

"  It  will  go  a  good  deal  easier  with  you,  you 
infernal  idiot,  if  youdl  out  with  your  story — 
tell  your  side  of  it.  Ilow'd  this  thing 
happen  ?  " 

Lengthy  glanced  sidewise  at  the  Body  as  it 
lay  on  the  ground.  "  Friend  of  mine,''  he  said, 
and  lapsed  into  silence  again. 

"  Will  you  tell  me,  Lengthy  ?  "  asked  Griffith. 
"Will  you  tell  me  in  the  presence  of  the 
General  ?  It  would  be  better  for  us  both  if 
you  will.     I  wish •" 

''  'Twill  ?  "  asked  Lengthy  giving  Griffith  a 
long,  slow  look.     "  Better  fer  yoh  ?"' 

"  Yes,"  said  Griffith,  iialf  choking  up.  He 
thought  he  had  solved  the  problem  of  why,  with 


248  AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATHIOT. 

llii'sc  two  inountaiiiL'er  in;uksiiieii  as  tlii'ir  au- 
lag'oiiists  none  of  llieir  part}'  liad  liceii  sliot  in 
the  eneonntei'.  "•  Yes,  l)etlfi-  for  nie.  Do  yotl 
care  lor  that,  I^reno'ihy  ?  ""  Tlie  wooilsnian  _i;ave 
anotlier  h)iig  hiolc  at  (Jril'litli,  and  then  pointed 
witli  his  ihund)  al  the  iin'ui-e  on  the  ^-i-ouinh 

''  r  done  hil.      Whis  aimed  t"  kill  _\'oh.      Few 

M'ords   coniii "*      ({ritlilh     L;-ias])ed  the   great 

rongh,  heljilessly  gTojiiiiL;'  hands  in  his.  '^  I 
thought  so,    I    ihonglit    so,"    he    said    l)rokenlv. 

'".And    you    stotxl     hy    nie    even lie    was 

your    friend,    and "'   ( Ji'il'lith's  voiee    Ijroke. 

In  the  pause  thai  followed  Leng'thy  Avas  staring 
at  the   form  on   the  ground. 

''  Yes.  AVhis  wus  a.  frien'  er  mine  ;  l)ut  Wins 
tuek  aim  at  yoh.  Few-words-comprehends-tir- 
whole  I  "*  The  last  sentenee  seemed  to  ho  all 
one  word.  Crrillilli  was  still  holding-  the  o'reat 
bands. 

''  Did  3"ou  know  I  was  with  Xortliern  troops, 
Leng'thy?     Did  you  know ?" 

''  Knowed  hit  wus  you.  Didn't  keer  who 
t'other  fellers  wus.  He  tuek  aim.  Seed  whar 
he  wns  pintin'^ — Few  words "' 

""  Are  you  a  Union  man,  Lengthy  ?  '' 


.l.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  249 

-  Naw." 

'•'•  Hel)el,  are  you  ?  •"  asked  tlie  General, 
sharply.  There  was  a  profound  silence.  The 
mountaineer  did  not  even  turn  his  head. 

"I  asked  you  if  you  were  a  rebel,  God  damn 
you!  Can't  you  hear?''  shouted  the  General 
thoroughly  angry.     "-  I'll  let  you  know — — "' 

"  Are  you  on  the  Confederate  side.  Lengthy  ?  '" 
began  Griffith.  The  mountaineer  had  not  in- 
dicated in  any  way  wliatever  that  he  had  heard 
any  previous  question.  '^  Naw,"  he  said  slowly 
and  as  if  with  a  mental  reservation.  The 
General  shot  forth  a  perfect  volley  of  oaths  and 
questions  and  threats,  but  the  immobility  of 
the  mountaineer  remained  wholly  undisturbed. 
There  was  not  even  the  shadow  of  a  change  of 
expression  on  the  bronzed  face. 

"  What  the  General  wants  to  know — what  / 
want  to  know  is.  Lengthy,  which  side  are  you  on? 
Are  you " 

"  On  yourn." 

"  On  Davenport's  side  against  the  world ! " 
remarked  a  staff  officer  aside,  smiling.  The 
mountaineer  heard.  He  turned  slowly  until  the 
angle  of  his  vision  took  in  the  speaker. 


250 


AX  UNOFFICIAL  PATIHOT. 


'•'•  ( )ii  liis  side  a>j;\n  the  woi'l".    Vvw  words "' 

The  rest  was  drowiicil  in  a  siiont  of  hinq'hter, 
ill  "whieli  the  ira^cihh.'  (.'oinniaiider  joiiiefh 
( iril'titli"s  eves  lillr(L  Leii^iliv  saw — and  niisiii- 
ter}>rete(h  He  forq'ot  th(.'  wound  in  his  ley.  a,nd 
that  his  trusty  gun  vv\is  his  no  more.  lie  sprang 
to  ( ii'iihlh"s  :^ide. 

'••  On  his  side  agin  llie  JihJI  o"  yuli  !  "  he  said, 
like  a  tiger  at  hay.  The  sorely  tried  leg  gave 
way  and  he  fell  in  a  hea[i  at  (irillith's  feet. 

Here!   (()uiek  1     (Jeltlie    surgeon.      We  fin- 
got  his  wounds.     He   is    shot    in    the  leg    and 

here "'     (Irii'tith  was  easing  the  poor  fellow 

down  as  he  talked,  trying  to  get  him  into  a  l)etter 
position.  Some  one  (offered  him  a  canteen. 
The  surgeon  eame  and  began  cutting  the  boot 
from  the  swollen  leg. 

''Do  i'vcrz/tJiiii;/  iov  him,  Doctor — everything 
YOU  would  for  me,""  said  Griilith  hoarsely. 
'•  He  killed  his  frieml  and  risked  his  own  life 
to  save  me.     He — ■ — '* 

His  voice  broke  and  he  walked  aAvav  into  the 
darkness.  Presently  Lengthy  opened  his  eyes 
and  asked  feebly,  *■•  Whai's  the  Parson  ?  " 

"Who?"' 


AX  rXOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  251 

"  Th'  Parson." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  siirg-eon  kindly,  "  you  want 
the  Cliaplain.  Oh,  you're  not  going  to  die  ! 
You're  all  right !  You've  lost  a  lot  of  blood  and 
stood  on  that  leg  too  long,  but " 

''  Whah's  Parson  Dav'npoht  ?  " 

A  light  dawned  upon  the  surgeon.  He  had 
never  thought  of  Griffith  as  a  clergyman  only 
as  he  had  heard  it  laughed  over  that  the  General 
swore  so  continuously  in  his  presence.  He  sent 
for  Griffith.  When  lie  came  Lengthy  saw  that 
his  eyes  were  red.  He  motioned  the  others  to 
go  away.  Then  he  whispered,  "  Th'  other  fellers 
— our  soldiers — th' " 

"  You  mean  the  Confederate  troops,  the 
Southern  men  ?  "  asked  Griffith,  and  Lengthy 
nodded ;  "  Jest  over  yander.     Layin'  fer  ye." 

"  I  looked  everj'where  for  smoke.  Lengthy. 
I  didn't  see  any  signs  of  camp  fires.     I " 

"  Jest  what  me  an'  Whis  was  doin'  fer  t'other 
side  when  we  seed  ye.  Hain't  got  no  fires. 
Hain't  goin'  t'  make  none." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  were  doing  a  sort  of 
scout  or  advance  duty  for  the  reb — the  Confeder- 
ates, when  you  met  us,  Lengthy  ?  " 


l>rvi  .LY   iWOFFICIAL   I'ATHloT. 

lie  nodded.      '-Jest  tliet."' 

'■'•  You  were  t»)_L;'<i  back  and  tell  lliein  alxuu '' 

"We  was.     Saw  you.      Didu"!  go.     lliiu"u' 
me  quad'd  "Ixiut "" 

"•  About  sliooliiig  me  ?  "" 

Leiig'tliv  iKxIdcd  again.      ■•  lie  aiuKMl  at  ye.    I 
gdt  him  fust."      There  was  a  hmg  pause. 

'•'Do    you   want    to  go    1_)a(d^    to    your  eanip, 
Lengthy,  if "' 

'•'•  Xaw." 

Presently  lie  said  :   •■  The^-'s  mo"  o"  them  then 
thev  is  o*  you  alls." 

(iril'lUh    grasped    his   idea.     "You   thiidc   we 
better  leave  here  ?    You  thiidc  they  will  attaek  ?  " 

"  Kill  h'ave  melayin"  here.   They'll  git  me — '\i 
liini  ;"  he  [loiiited  with  his  thiiml)  again  toward 
the  friend  of  his  life — the  body  that   lay  await- 
ing bttrial   on  the   morrow. 

''"VVotild    3'ou    ratlier    go    Avith    us?"'    began 
Griffith,  and  the  swarthy  faee  lightened  up. 

"  Kin  you  alls  take  me  ?  "" 

"  Certaiid}',  certainl}-,  if  you  want  to  go.    We 
won't  leave  you.     The  General " 

"  Hain't  goin'  witli  him.     Goin"  "th  3'OU." 

"All  right,  all  rii-ht,  Leno-thy.     You  shall  go 


^.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  253 

with  ))!('  and  you  shall  sta//  with  me."  The 
mountaineer  turned  his  head  slowly.  The  nar- 
cotic the  surgeon  had  given  was  overcoming 
him.  He  did  not  understand  it,  and  he  Avas 
vainly  struggling  against  a  sleep  w'hicli  he  did 
not  comprehend. 

"  You — alls— Ijetter — light — out.  They  is  mo' 
o'  them  and— the}" — -is  mad — -plum — through. 
Few — words — com — com "" 

The  unaccustomed  effort  at  linguistic  elabora- 
tion exhausted  him,  and,  together  with  the  sleep- 
ing potion,  Lengthy  was  rendered  unconscious  of 
all  pain,  and  an  hour  later  he  was  borne  on  a 
stretcher  between  two  horses  as  the  engineers' 
party  silently  retraced  its  steps  and  left  the  camp 
deserted  and  desolate  with  its  one  silent  occupant 
lying  stark  in  the  moonlight,  with  its  great  mass 
of  matted  beard  upon  its  lifeless  breast. 


254  AX   T'XOFFiriAL  PATRIOT. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

"  At  first  happy  news  caiiu'.  in  uay  li'tters  moiled 
With  my  kisses. — of  camp  life  and  glory." 

Brovnilng. 

The  fall  and  winter  ^vore  on.  Spring  Avas 
near.  Orilliili  AVfote  to  Katlierine  daily  and 
mailed  liis  letters  wln'iievei'  and  wherever  it  Vv"as 
jjossilde.  His  persdiial  reports  of  progress  went 
with  regnlaritv  to  Mr.  Lineoln.  and  an  oeeasional 
note  of  eongratnlation  or  thanks  or  eneourage- 
ment  came  to  him  in  reply.  ^Meantime  tlic 
.\rmy  of  the  Potoniae  did  little  l)tit  wait,  and 
the  armies  of  tlie  South  and  West  were  active. 
Letters  from  the  boys  came  to  Katlierine  with 
irregnlar  regularity.  Those  from  Howard  were 
alwavs  brief  and  full  of  an  irresponsible  gurgle 
of  fun  and  heroics.  He  had  l)een  in  two  or  three 
small  fights,  and  wrote  of  them  as  if  he  had  en- 
joyed an  outing  on  a  pleasure  excursion.  He 
said  in  one  that  when  he  was  on  picket  duty  he 
had  ''  swapped  lies  and  grul) ""  with  the   picket 


AN  UXOFFICIAL  rATEIOT.  255 

on  the  other  side.  '■'  He  tried  to  stuff  me  Avitli 
a  lot  of  fiction  about  the  strength  of  their  force 
— said  the}'  had  not  less  than  ninety  thousand 
men  in  front  of  us  ready  to  lick  us  in  the  morn- 
ing. I  told  him  tliat  I'd  just  happened  l)y  acci- 
dent to  hear  our  roll  called,  and  it  took  two  days 
and  a  night  to  read  the  names  of  our  officers 
alone.  He  was  a  crack  liar  but  I  reckon  we  got 
off  about  even.  He  had  the  worst  old  gun  I 
ever  saw.  It  came  out  of  the  ark.  He  admired 
mine,  and  it  was  a  tip-top  Enfield,  but  I  told  him 
it  was  just  an  old  borrowed  thing  (the  last  of 
which  was  true)  and  that  my  own  was  nearly  as 
big  as  fifty  of  it  and  would  shoot  ten  miles.  He 
kicked  at  me  and  laughed,  but  I  didn't  tell  him  I 
was  a  gunner  in  a  battery.  A  battery  is  a  jim- 
dandy  of  a  place.  I  get  to  ride  all  the  time. 
That  suits  me  right  down  to  the  ground.  I 
Laven't  had  a  scratch  yet  and  I'm  not  afraid  I'll 
get  one."  His  letters  rattled  on  in  some  such  fash- 
ion whenever  he  remembered  or  exerted  himself 
enough  to  write  at  all.  They  developed  in  slang 
as  the  months  went  by,  and  Katherine  smiled 
and  sighed. 

Beverly's  letters  kept  up  their  old  tone,  and 


256  AN  UXOFFiriAL  PATIUOT. 

Ill'  tri('(|  in  cviMT  Avay  lit'  could  think  of,  to 
(•lu'cr  Ills  iiiolluT.  lie  had  a\  holly  re('o\-('i'cd, 
he  said.  IVdiii  his  wounds,  and  ^vas  now  \^■ilh 
(li-aiit  ill  'I'ciiiK'ssei'.  \\v  drst/rihrd  the-  Ioiil'; 
moss  on  tho  ti'(H's,  and  wrote  :  "■  We  are  iiioviii^' 
iio\v  toward  ('oriiith.  That  is  the  ohjcct  i\-;' 
point.  ]  A\'a>  (ransrcrrf(l  a  nionih  a;_;'o  1()(  Jraiit's 
army,  and  so,  unless  lo)\-  has  ])vr]\  transh-rred 
sinee  you  wrot<'  me  last,  J"ll  get  to  see  him  in  a 
few  da_vs,  I  hojic.  That  will  he  gooij.  It  seems 
as  if  Wf  hoys  had  traveled  a  pretty  long-  road 
in  the  matter  of  age  and  experience  since  we 
were  at  home  together.  I'm  glad  to  hear  of 
Ivoy's  promotion — ihc  handsome'  fellow  I  And 
so  it  was  for  conspicuous  hravery  at  Fiirt  Donald- 
son, AA'as  it?  (iood!  (Jood!  .Vh,  we  can  l)e 
proud  of  Koy,  mother.  And  he  got  only  a  little 
flesli-wound  in  it  all,  and  did  not  have  to  go  to 
the  hospital  at  all!  What  lucky  dogs  we  l)oys 
are,  to  he  sure.  I  hope  father  is  home  with 
you  hy  this  time.  Of  course,  I  understand  the 
ominous  silence  and  inaction  in  Virginia — in  the 
armj'-  of  the  Potomac— as  only  a  few  of  lis  can. 
But  I  do  hope  that  father  will  do  all  the  Presi- 
dent asked  of  liim,  and  get  home  before  they 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  o^^l 

luulertake  to  act  upon  tlie  information  he  is  en- 
abling them  to  gather.  Yes,  yes,  mother,  I  know 
how  terribly  hard  he  took  it,  and  how  silently 
heroic  he  is  and  will  be,  God  bless  him  !  But 
after  all,  mother  mine,  y/o^frpartif?  about  the  hard- 
est of  all  to  bear.  I  think  of  that  more  and  more  ! 
To  sit  and  wait !  To  silently  sit  and  ^vait  for 
you  know  not  what.  To  take  no  active  part  ! 
Oh,  the  heroic  patience  and  endurance  that  must 
take  I  But  don't  Avorry  about  us.  The  fact  is 
that  we  are  not  in  half  so  much  danger  as  you 
think.  When  one  comes  to  know  how  few, 
after  all,  of  the  milli(ins  of  rounds  of  ammunition 
tliat  are  hred,  ever  find  their  mark  in  human 
flesh,  one  can  face  them  pretty  courageously. 
We  were  talking  it  over  in  camp  the  other  day — 
a  lot  of  the  officers.  I  really  had  had  no  idea 
what  a  safe  place  a  battle-field  is.  It  seems  that 
out  of  7260  balls  fired,  only  ten  hit  anybody,  and 
only  one  of  those  are  serious  or  fatal !  Just  look 
at  the  chances  a  fellow  has.  Why  he  doesn't  seem 
to  be  in  much  more  danger  than  he  is  that  a 
brick  will  fall  on  him  as  he  walks  the  streets, 
or  that  he'll  slip  and  break  his  neck  on  the  ice. 

Doesn't  seem  so  very  dangerous,  now,  does  it, 
17 


258  .i-V  rxoFFjriAL  PAiiuor. 

iiidllicr '.''  Now,  I  want  you  to  rcnii'inliur  tliose 
fiynics,  for  tlievarL'  correct.  TIk'U  you  rciueni- 
l)L'r  tliat  I  ;_;ot  uiv  tlircc — wliicli  i>  uiorc  tlian  my 
sliaic  of  l)alls.  ill  till'  very  lii'st  li^lil  I  \\'as  in; 
so  \'ou  sec  /'///  not  likclv  to  !_;ct  any  more  Koy 
liad  1 II If,  so  liis  cliaui-o  to  calcli  any  moi'c  is  poor  : 
ami  as  for  Ilowanl — well,  soiurliow  or  <illii'i'.  I 
never  feel  tlie  least  aiixifiy  ahoiit  Howard. 
IleM  |iull  tlii'on^li  a  knot-liole  if  llie  knot  was 
still  in  il.  He  is  so  iri-esistil)ly.  in'esponsil)ly, 
recklessly  indifferent.  l>ut  at  all  events, 
motlier,  don't  woriy  too  mu(di.  \i\'  only  anx- 
ietv,  now,  is  to  Lear  tliat  iallier  is  at  home 
ag'ain  :  koili  for  your  sake  and  foi'  Lis.  Ye 
o'ods  !  wliat  a  terrific  saci-iiice  tlie  President 
demanded  of  Lim  I  And  ^\dlat  a  stuLl)orn 
heroism  it  has  taken  to  make  father  do  il. — \\\v\\ 
liis  temperament  and  feelings, — a  heroism  and 
patriotism  l)evond  even  tlie  eom[)re]iension  of 
most  men.  Ciive  liule  Margaret  the  enclosed 
note,  please.  I  don't  know  that  she  can  read  it, 
l)Ul  I  wrote  it  a:^  [)lain  as  T  could  on  this  shingde. 
We  are  moving  pretty  steadily  now.  AVe  stopped 
to-(lav,  to  let  the  supplies  catcdi  up.  We  start 
ae-ain  in  an  hour  or  so.     We  are  all  I'eady  now. 


AX  UNOFFICIAL  PATUIOT.  lifj'J 

I  never  cease  to  be  glad  that  you  have  old  aunt 
Judy,  and  that  she  continues  such  a  comfort, 
— and  trial.  Give  her  ni}-  love,  and  tell  the  gentle 
and  huxoni  Rosanna,  that  if  she  were  in  this 
part  of  the  country  she'd  '  see  the  loikes  av 
me  '  at  every  turn.  Soldiers  are  thicker  than 
peas  in  a  pod,  and  she'd  ]iot  have  '  to  go  fur  t' 
foind  the  loikes  av  me  '  multiplied  hy  ten  thou- 
sand, all  of  whom  'become  their  soger  close' 
quite  as  truly  as  did  tlie  undersigned  when  the 
admiration  of  Rosaima  for  nie  Idossomed  forth  in 
such  eloquence  and  elaboration  of  diction.  This 
seems  rather  a  frivolous  letter ;  but  I  Avant  you 
to  keep  up  good  heart,  little  mother.  It  won't — 
it  can't — last  nnich  longer,  and  just  as  soon  as 
father  gets  home,  I,  for  one,  shall  feel  quite  easy 
ao-ain.  I  hope  he  is  there  by  this  time,  with  his 
part  all  done.  The  last  letter  I  got  from  him, 
he  thought  it  would  not  take  much  longer  to 
do  all  they  expected  him  to  do,  now.  Dear 
old  father !  His  last  letter  to  me  was  an  in- 
spiration and  a  sermon,  in  living  (as  he  is), 
without  the  least  bit  of  preaching  in  it.  He 
doesn't  need  to  preach.  He  lives  far  better 
than  any  creed  or  than  any  religion ;  but— — " 


l^OU  .l.V    IWOFFICIAL   I'ATlHO'i: 

Katlii'i'iiir  l)i-((l;c  (lu  1111(1  jioikIltlmI.  Was  Bev- 
ei'lv  still  icailiiiL;-  I'lioiuas  Paiiir?  Jf  lie  were 
to  Ix-  kilkMl!  AVhat  <li<l  lie  believe?  -Lives 
fai'  better  than  any  creed  or  lliaii  aiiv  reli^'ion," 
wlial  (liil  lie  mean?  Had  iieverlv  l)eeo!iie 
opeiilv  an  uiil;elic\er  in  d'eeils  and  I'eli^ions  ? 
Idle  tliou^lit  aliii(i>t  iVii/c  her  1)1(1(1(1.  She  fell 
upon  her  knees  and  A\"ept  and  |ii'a\'e(l — not  for 
her  son's  life  to  he  s[iar(.'d  from  tlu.'  l)uluds 
of  the  eiieiin',  as  \\-as  her  hahit.  hut  that  the 
'shafts  of  th(_'  destroyer""  nuLdit  spare  his  soul! 
Her  cup  of  anxiety  and  soir(.)\v  A\as  embittered 
and  made  to  overflow  by  the  sincei'ily  of  a 
beli(d'  M'hicli  was  so  sim[)le.  and  knew  s(t  little  of 
evasion,  that  the  bottomless  pit  did,  indeed, 
yawn  before  her  for  this  sou  of  her  youth. 

"Save  him  I  save  himl"'  she  moaned  aloud, 
'Mf  uot  from  death,  at  least  from  destruetion, 
oh,  (iod  of  my  salvation  !  " 

The  teri'tirs  whi(di  should  ftdlow  unbelief  had 
been  long-  ago,  in  lier  rigid  Presbyteriau  liome, 
made  so  mueli  a  part  of  her  very  uature,  that 
the  siui[)le,  cheerful,  happ}'  side  of  Griffith's 
religion,  which  had  been  u})permost  all  these 
years,  had  not  even  yet,  iu  eases  of  unusual  stress, 


.l.Y  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  2G1 


obliteiutt'd  the  liorrorof  Katlierine's  literal  belief 
in  and  fear  of   an  awful   hell,  and  a  vengeanee- 
vi^iting   God  for   tho.se  Avho   slighted  or   ques- 
tioned the  justiee  or  truth  of  a  cruel  revelation 
of  Ilini.     .V  great  and  haunting  fear  for  Bev- 
erly's   sold   eclipsed   her   fear   for  his  life,  and 
Katlierine's    religion  added  terrors   to  the   Avar 
that  were  more  real  and  dark   and   fearful  than 
the  real  horrors   that   are  a   natural  and  legiti- 
mate part  of  a  cruel,  civil  contest.     The  "  com- 
forts," to   a  loving   heart  and   a   clear   head,  of 
such   a  religion,  were  vague   and  shadowy  ;  in- 
deed.    Its  certain  and  awful  threats  were  like  a 
llannng  sword  of   Avrath   ever   before   her  ej'es. 
To  those  who  could  evade  the  personal  applica- 
tion of  the  tenets  of  their  faith,  who  could  ac- 
cei»t  or  reject   at  will  the  doctrines  they  pro- 
fessed, who  could  wear  as  an  easy   garment  the 
parts  they   liked,  and  slip   from  their  shoulders 
the  features  of  their  "  revelation  "  to  which  the 
condition  of  their  own  loved   ones  did  not  re- 
spond, there  might  be   comfort.     But  to   Kath- 
erine  there   was  none.     Her   faith   was  so  real 
and  firm,  that  it  did  not  doubt   a  literal  damna- 
tion, ]ior  could  she  read  from   under   the  decree 


202  AX   T'XOFFKTAL   PATHIOT. 

tliose  slic  1i)V(m1,  simplv  ln-rausc  she  loved  llieni. 
.Vii  eternal  decree  of  suffering"  Iuuil;'  (jver  her 
lirst-l)orii,  tlie  idol  of  hrr  s(.)ul !  The  awful 
burden  of  her  religion  A\'as  almost  more  than 
she  couhl  l»eai' in  tlu'sc  days  of  i'car  and  loneli- 
ness, slinmlaleil  as  il  A\-as  hy  ihe  cxer-present 
thi'eal  and  shadow  t)f  death  for  the  Lunh  that 
had  slraved.  even  so  little,  fi'om  the  ortlaulox; 
fold.  Her  (lavs  -wei'e  douhl\'  hurdeni/d  hv  the 
new  anxiety,  shado\\'ed  hv  the  I'eal,  and  haunt- 
(mI  hy  the  agony  of  fear  for  the  imaginarv, 
danger  to  her  son.  In  her  dreams,  that  night, 
she  saw  him  stand  hefore  an  angry  and  aveng- 
ing (iod,  and  she  awoke  in  a  verv  panic  of 
dtdirium  and  mental  anguish,  (ireat  l)eads  of 
moisture  stoml  upon  her  hrow.  '"Save  him! 
save  him  !  oh,  (iod  of  our  salvation  I  "'  she  cried 
out,  and  little  Margaret  stirred  uneasily  in  licr 
hed. 

'^Wat  dat,  honey?  Wat  dat  y.)h  say,  ]Mis' 
K'ate  I  ""  called  out  Jtidy  from  her  cot  in  tlie 
next  ro(_)m.      "  Did  yoh  call  me.  Mis"  Kate  '!  " 

"  X(»,  no,  aunt  Judy,  I  had  a  had  dream. 
I ■• 

The  old  woman  hoLhled  in.     '•  Xow,  des  look 


^.Y  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  263 

alieali,  honey,  ties  yoli  stop  that  kiiie  er  dreams, 
now.  Dey  ain't  no  uste  t'  nobody,  an'  dey  des 
makes  bad  wuk  all  de  way  'roun'.  An'  "sides 
dat  dey  ain't  got  no  sense  to  "em,  noliow." 
Poor  old  annt  Judy,  lier  philosophy  was  deeper 
and  trner  than  she  knew  or  than  her  mistress 
snspected  ;  bat  tlie  sound  of  her  kind  old  voice 
comforted  Katherine  as  no  philosophy  could. 

"  Dar  now,  honey,  yoli  des  lay  right  down  dar 
'n'  go  to  sleep  agin.  Yoah  ole  aunt  Judy  des 
gwine  ter  stay  right  heah  twell  yoah  sheer  gits 
gone.  Dar  now,  dar  now,  honey,  dem  kine  er 
dreams  is  all  foolishness.  Dey  is  dat !  Now,  I 
gwine  ter  set  heah  an'  yoh  des  whorl  in  an'  dream 
sompin'  good  'bout  Mos  Grif,  dat's  what  you 
do !  Aunt  Judy  gwine  ter  set  right  heah  by  de 
bed.     Dar  now,  honey !     Dar  now,  go  sleep." 


2G4  AJSf  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


CIIAPTKIi   XVIII. 

"  Into  Ihc  j  iws  of  (Icatli, 
Into  till.'  mouth  of  hell."' 

Tiiuu/siJit. 

It  liad  raiiicfl  in  lorivnts.  The  .stil't'  clay  of 
tlic  iiiuddy  roads  was  ankle  deep.  Iu)y"s  regi- 
nieid  in  eamp  near  tlie  Tennessee  river  was 
wliiliiiL;'  away  its  lime  ;is  best  it  eould.  It 
was  o-cneralh"  nndcrstodd  lliat  tliey  were  to  Ije 
joined  in  a  day  or  two  ]>y  I'einforeenients,  and 
then  mareli  on  to  Corinth.  I\oy  knew  that 
Beverly  was  to  he  ^\■ith  llie  expected  eouiniaiid. 
The  young-  lieutenant — a  lirst  lieutenant  now — ■ 
was  proud  and  eag'ei'.  He  thought  it  would  be 
a  Ihie  thing  for  liini  and  In'\'erly  to  fight  side 
l)_y  side.  He  meant  to  show  Beverly  that  lie 
A\as  no  longer  a  l)oy.  A  soft  silken  mustache 
liad  come  to  accent  his  fresh  complexion,  and 
he  was  as  handsome  and  ttill  and  graceful  and 
erect  as  a  3'ouiig  soldier  need    be.     lie  carried 

\ 


.l.Y  UNOFFICIAL  FATBIOT.  265 


liinisclf  with  peculiar  grace,  and  he  was  an  inch 
taller  than  Beverly,  now.  lie  hoped  that  he 
would  be  taller  than  his  brother,  and  he  walked 
very  erect,  indeed,  as  he  thoug'ht  about  it. 
Then  he  smiled  to  himself  and  said  half  aloud, 
'^  He  will  be  here  to-morrow,  and  I  shall  give  him 
a  o-reat  welcome — and  a  surprise."  This  was  his 
last  tliought  as  he  turned  on  his  side,  and  fell  into 
a  soldier's  dreamless  slee[),  in  spite  of  rain  and 
mud,  in  spite  of  iioise  and  confusion,  in  spite  of 
danger  and  anxiety. 

It  was  the  night  of  the  ilfth  of  April.  Roy 
had  planned  to  appear  very  splendid  to  his 
brother  on  the  morrow.  He  had  shaved  freshly 
and  brushed  his  uniform,  and  rubbed  up  Ins  new 
shoulder  straps.  Ilis  sword  was  burnished,  and 
the  l)oy  had  smiled  to  himself  many  times  as  he 
Avorked  over  these  details,  to  think  how  vain  he 
was,  and  liow  anxious  that  Beverly  sliould  look 
pleased  and  proud  when  he  should  see  him  at 
his  best.  He  seemed  to  have  slept  only  a  little 
while  when  there  straggled  into  his  conscious- 
ness the  sound  of  a  shot,  then  another  and  an- 
other; then  a  sudden  indescribable  noise  and  con- 
fusion roused  him  wdiolly.    He  sprang  to  liis  feet. 


266  Ay  ry OFFICIAL  patiuot. 

The  gray  of  tlie  dawning'  day  was  here.  Bugles 
were  souridiiig.  Confusion,  noise,  action  was  on 
all  sides.  The  camp  had  l)een  surprised  !  The 
enemy  \\'as  Ti[)on  llicm  !  (ii'a|ie.  canister  and 
Eidield  halls  toiv  througli  tlie  teids.  Slu-lls 
hurst;  tlie  ilrst  vision  that  met  liis  eves  as  he 
I'uslied  forth,  was  a  liorse  of  one  of  tlicii'  own 
hattei'ics,  struggling,  moaning,  wliiinn'ing  piti- 
fully with  hoih  foi'edcgs  torn  a\\'a\\  and  the 
cannon  half  o\'i'i-lurii(Mh  An  onrushiiiL;'  foi'ce  of 
Confederates  shouting  in  lriuiu[ih.  As  his  own 
regiment  tried  to  form  in  line,  three  terrified 
horses  tore  past  dragging  their  felloAW  and  ^vhat 
was  left  of  the  dismantled  camion.  Thev  were 
wounding  each  other  cruelly  in  their  mad 
frenzy  of  pain  and  fi'ighl.  ddiey  fell  in  one 
]nass  of  struggling,  suffering,  panic-strieken  lle.-^h 
into  the  river  and  drowned,  "wilh  their  harness 
hinding  tlnnn  together,  and  to  the  wreck  of  their 
dismantled  hurdeii.  EverNnliing  was  confusion. 
Each  regiment  was  doing  its  l)est  to  form  and 
re[)tdse  the  teri'ihle  onshiught.  The  surprise 
liad  l)een  complete.  The  scouts  had  heen  sur- 
rounded and  captured,  and  the  pickets  killed  or 
driven  in  at  the  first  charge  which  had  aAvakened 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATBIOT.  267 

the  sleeping  camp.     Tlie  lioinirs,  the  disasters 
and  the  triumphs  of  Shiloh  liad  begun ! 

There  was  no  time  to  tliink.  Action,  alone, 
was  possiLle — tlie  intuitive  action  of  the  soldier. 
The  men  formed  as  best  they  could,  and  fought 
as  tliey  fell  back,  or  as  they  advanced  a  step, 
with  dogged  determination  to  retrieve  lost 
ground.  Some  were  driven  into  the  river,  and 
when  wounded,  fell  beneath  its  waves  to  rise  no 
more.  The  intrepid  Confederates  followed  up 
their  first  dash  Avitli  persistent  determination,  in 
spite  of  the  forced  march  which  had  preceded 
the  sui'prise,  and  in  spite  of  hunger  and  un- 
certainty when  their  supplies  might  come. 
They  aimed  at  nothing  short  of  capture.  Then 
supplies  would  be  theirs  without  dela}'.  But 
every  foot  of  ground  was  being  stubbornly  con- 
tested. Now  a  gain  was  made,  now  a  loss.  Both 
sides  were  fighting  with  that  desperation  which 
makes  certain  only  one  thing  as  the  issue  of  the 
battle — -the  certainty  of  an  awful  carnage.  At 
such  a  time  it  does  not  seem  possible,  and  yet  it 
is  true,  that  a  sense  of  reckless  humor  finds  place 
and  material  to  feed  its  fancy.  A  good-natured 
badinage  held  possession  of  many  of  the  men. 


t2<;S  AN   rXOFFK'IAL   PATRIOT. 

]{(»y's  r('_L;iiiK'iit  had  ])ccn  driven  bark  1))'  tlie 
first  sudden  (innisli.  It  luul  formed  and  fou^Ilt 
a>  it  Wfnt,  l)Ut  il  liad  nndoulAi'dly  l)een  foreed 
from  its  position  of  advantaL;L'  on  tlie  rise  of  the 
hill.  Thi'V  were  strn^'L;'linL;"  des[)L'rately  to 
reg'ain  it.  Every  man  seemed  di'lcrmined  to 
stand  aL^a.in  ^^•hel■e  he  ]ia<l  stood  an  hour  l)efore 
or  diu  in  the  atli.'m[)t.  A  larye  pieee  of  })a.])er 
|inni('(l  to  a  tri^e  witli  a  lia\-oiiel,  attracted  Roy's 
alt(_'ntion  as  the  smolco  was  liftci]  for  a  moment, 
while  they  ])Ushed  foj-ward  iiieh  hy  inch.  The 
l)oys  had  st'en  its  like  before.  They  understood 
and  it  acted  like  a,  stimulant  u[)on  them.  Some 
of  the  hoys  la\tL;-hed  inUri^ht.  The  smoke  hid  the 
paper.  The  next  volley  hail  (haven  the  Confed- 
erates a  step  farther  hack.  The  ground  w"as 
strewn  Avith  their  men,  lyini;-  side  In  side  with 
those  wlio  liad  fallen  from  the  Xorthern  raid^s 
at  the  first  dash  of  the  enemy.  The  tree  with 
the  paper  ^^■as  a  tritle  nearer. 

'••  C'liarq-e  foi-  that  ehalleno-e,  hovs  I  Charo'e  !  " 
shotited  Roy,  and  they  responded  with  a  yell 
and  a  murderous  volley  as  they  ran.  It  was 
almost  within  reaeh  now,  l)ut  the  men  who  had 
posted  it  fought  like  tigers  to  hold  their  ground. 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  1' ATI! JOT.  'JCiD 

'^  We'll  g-et  it,  l)o_vs  I  We'll  get  it  I  "  rang  out 
with  the  roar  of  the  l)attle.  At  last  the  tree 
was  only  a  few  feet  away.  A  private  dashed 
out  of  the  line,  and  grasped  the  bayonet  that 
held  the  coveted  paper  and  swung  it  aloft.  The 
challenge  w'as  captured  I  Even  the  boys  Avho 
lay  on  tlie  ground  joined  in  the  triumphal  shout 
and  one  of  them  volunteered  to  reply.  lie  had 
a  good  arm  left !  He  took  a  pencil  from  his 
l)reast  pocket,  and  turned  his  body  painfully, 
slowly,  so  that  he  could  write.  The  stock  of 
his  gun  was  desk  enough.     He  read  the  captured 

paper   and  laughed.      "•  The  ■ La.    presents 

its  compliments  to  the  — — -  Ind.,  and  intends  to 
thrash  it  out  of  its  b(^ots — as  usual.'' 

The  wounded  man  turned  the  paper  over  and 

wrote  :    "  The Ind.  returns  its  compliments 

to  the  La.  and  ex[)resses  a  desire  to  see  it 

accomplish  the  jol)."  He  was  so  near  to  the  tree 
that  he  thought  he  could  drag  himself  to  it  and 
post  up  the  repl}^  on  the  far  side,  but  his  legs 
were  numb  and  hel[)less,  and  the  pain  of  drag- 
ging himself  on  hands  and  hips  conquered  him. 
He  looked  all  about  him.  The  ambulance 
workers  had  come,  not  far  away,  to  carry  off  the 


270  ^^"V  UXOFFIf'TAL  PATIUOT. 

wounded.  (Jiie  came  neiir  and  offered  to  help 
liini. 

"•  IMii  that  })a})cr  to  the  far  side  of  that  tree, 
first,"  he  said,  \y\\]\  a  grim  smih'.     *•  Til  wait." 

The  man  i'efnse(h  hut  the  wounded  feUow 
essaying-  to  di'ag  liimself  towai'd  it  again,  lie 
yiehle(h  and  the   return   eliallenge   was   posted. 

Two  liours  hiter  its  work  was  done.      The 

Tva.  held  tlie  hill  again  !  A  l.iughing  shout  AA'ent 
U[i.  It  might  ha\(_'  heeii  a  warndy  t'ontested 
game  of  hiothall,  so  free  from  m;iliee  \vas  it. 

All  over  the  gi'eat  haltlf-tield  the  work  of  the 
day  ^\"as  hack  and  forth  over  the  same  Idoody 
and  trampled  ground.  The  nuid  of  the  morning 
took  on  another  ting('  of  red.  and  the  mingled 
hlood  of  the  gallant  fellows  wlio  gave  their 
lives  for  tlie  side  they  had  espoused  made  hid- 
eous mortar  of  tlie  ghastl}'  saeriilce.  The  river 
ran  on  its  way  to  the  sea,  floating  the  costliest 
driftwood  ever  cast  hy  man  as  an  offering  to  liis 
own  passions,  mistakes,  and  amhitions  ;  a  drift- 
wood pale  and  ghastly,  clad  in  gray  or  in  hlue, 
and  scattering  from  !Maine  to  Texas,  from 
ocean  to  ocean,  the  sorrow  that  travels  in  the 
wake  of  Avar,    the  anguish  of  those  wlio  silentl}" 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  271 

wait  liy  tlie  fireside,  for  the  step  that  will 
never  come,  for  the  voice  that  is  silent  forever! 
Ah,  the  ghastliness  of  war  !  Ah,  the  costliness 
of  war  !  It  is  those  who  do  not  fight  who  pay 
the  heaviest  debt  and  find  its  glory  ashes  ! 

On  the  hill  was  the  rivalry  of  the  challenge. 
It  gave  grim  hnmor  to  the  contest.  Three  chal- 
lenges were  taken,  and  three  replaced,  before 
the  sunset  brought  that  suspension  of  effort 
which  left  the  hill,  the  tree,  and  the  final  glory 
of  the  day  in  the  hands  of  the  Confederates. 
The  drawn  battle  was  over  for  the  night,  but 
the  trend  of  the  victory  was  southward,  and  the 
heavens  once  more  deluged  the  dead  and  dj'ing 
with  the  pitiless  downpour  of  chilling  rain  all 
the  night  long.  In  the  northern  camp  the  tired 
men  slept  in  spite  of  rain  and  mud  and  distant 
cannonading.  With  the  slain  beside  them,  the 
groans  of  tlie  dying  about  them,  the  echo  of  the 
conflict  in  their  ears,  the  promise  of  the  struggle 
of  the  morrow,  still  the  tired  men  slept !  In 
the  Confederate  camp  sleep  was  impossible.  The 
Federal  relief  boats  had  come !  To-morrow  fresh 
men  would  fill  the  Northern  ranks.  Meantime 
the  thunder  of  the  great  gunboats  continued  the 


.l.V  rXOFFlf'TAL  PATIUOT. 


iiiu'(|U;il  (Miutfst.  Sli(»i  ami  shell  fell  ■\\-iili  the 
rain  into  tlif  (  diilVdL'rate  caiiii).  \\\  iiiglit  lliu 
l)()iiil>ai-iliii('iit  Meiit  i»ii.  The  river  wa.s  tinged 
wilh  led,  the  heavens  ke[)t  up  the  uhl  I'efrain 
ami  v.cjit  fur  the  sins,  the  mistakes,  the-  ci-uelties 
of  men,  ami  still  the  tireil  soldiers  slept  and 
Availed  for  the  m(>]'i'<i\v — and  Mhat  ?  There 
would  he  no  more  siu'pi'ises  at  least.  Both  under- 
stood ]io\v  that  it  \\'as  a  sluhhorn  tight.  I5oth 
knew  that  ihe  I'einforeenieiits  AVere  here  for  the 
Fe(leral  troops.  I'iekets  and  scouts  XA'ere  Avide 
awake  now  :  no  danger  of  another  sui'prise.  .Vll 
night  the  relief  eorps  A\'orked.  ^\11  night  the 
distant  echoes  from  the  guid)oats  hrought  hope 
to  the  one  and  despei'atioii  to  the  other  army. 
.Vll  night  the  surgeons  lal>ored.  .Vll  night 
stragglers  came  in  dragging  A\"(nuided  limhs. 
All  night  stiffeiing  liorses  neighed  and  \\hinnied 
and  struggled  and  at  last  die(l  fi'om  loss  of  hlood 
— and  still  men  slept !  ^Vh,  the  Idessed  ohliviou 
and  relief  of  sleep  I  If  to-morrow"s  action  nmst 
come,  then  to-iught  nature  must  restore  the 
wasted  energy,  and  repair  the  deathly  exhaus- 
tion,— and  men  sle[)t  I  Soaked  through  with 
rain,    begrimed     with    smoke    and   with    mud, 


.l.Y  UNOFFICIAL  PATIUOr. 


assailed  with  groans  and  witli  tliat  insidious  foe 
of  rest,  uncertainty,  still  men  slept,  soundly, 
profoundly,  dreamlessl}' ! 

The  fn'st  gray  streak  of  dawn  brought  a  l)ugle 
call :  another,  another.  The  clouds  ^^■ere  clear- 
ing away.  Nature  was  preparing  to  A\'itness 
another  and  more  desperate  struggle.  Tlie 
dreamless  sleep,  that  had  refused  to  yield  to 
hunger,  pain,  uproar  or  anxiety,  yielded  at  the 
first  note  of  the  reveille.  Every  man  was-  awake, 
alei't,  active.  The  rain  and  action-stiffened 
limbs  were  ready  for  duty  again.  The  seventh 
of  April  had  dawned.  Reinforcements  would 
soon  land  ;  but  the  battle  was  on  before  they 
could  disembark.  Tlie  Confederates,  flushed 
M'ith  the  advantage  of  the  day  before,  were 
determined  to  overwhelm  even  the  new  force. 
The  battle  was  on.  Roy,  the  spruce,  trim, 
handsome  young  lieutenant  of  the  da}"  before, 
waiting  for  his  brother  with  proud,  brotherly 
anxiety,  was  a  sorry  sight  to-day,  but  that  did 
not  trouble  him.  His  new  shoulder-straps 
were  tarnished,  his  sword  ■was  marked  with 
an  ugl}^  red  stain,  his  freshly  brushed  uni- 
form was  bespattered  and  wrinkled  and  wet, 
18 


274  Ay   rXOFFTf'IAL  PATRIOT. 

mud-citvered  and  toni :  l)ut  liu  was  iinliurt  save 
for  the  track  of  a  Miiiit.'  l)all  under  the  skin  of 
liis  left  anil.  To  that  he  g-a\'e  no  hi-etL  A 
pLister  of  the  pottery  ehiy.  self-applied,  had 
taken  the  soreness  almost  away,  and  as  Roy 
stood  at  the  head  of  his  eoni[)anv  to-day  and  took 
the  place  of  the  ca])tain,  \y]\n  WDuld  i^es^xiiid  to 
roll-call  no  nir)i'e,  he  was  v,-(»nderin^-  if  Beverly 
Avotild  lie  \\illi  iht!  ti'00[).^  that  would  land,  and 
if  thev  W(tuld  help  sa\'e  the  day.  lie  hoped 
that  In'verly  Mould  he  there,  and  yet — after  the 
sights  and  experien^'es  of  yesterday — <h'<I  he 
hope  that  Ijeveily  would  he  there'/  IJeverly 
might  be  killed!  He  had  not  thought  of  that 
tlie  day  before,  nor  had  it  trindded  him  for  him- 
self ;  but  as  he  looked  abottt  him  now  or  bent  to 
see  if  an  old  comrade  were  really  dead,  or  only 
unconscious,  he  somehow  felt  glad  that  Beverly 
liad  not  been  there  tlie  da}'  Ijefore.  Ah,  these 
hearts  of  ours  ! — these  liearts  of  ours  I  What 
tricks  they  plav  tts  I  What  cowards  they  make 
of  us  I  What  seliishness  they  ])reed  in  its  I 
For  ourselves  we  can  be  brave,  defiant,  even 
jocose,  in  the  midst  of  danger  or  of  sorro\'\' :  but 
for  those  we  love  !     Ah,  for  those  we  love,  our 


AX  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  275 

pliilosopliy  is  scant  comfort,  our  courage  is  un- 
dermiueJ  l^efore  it  is  tested,  and  we  are  helpless 
in  tlie  face  of  Love.  We  can  walk  bravely 
enough  into  the  mouth  of  a  cannon,  but  Love 
disarms  us,  and  we  cry  for  mercy  where  we  did 
not  shrink  from  death  ! 

Roy  wondered  how  much  Beverly  knew  of 
the  battle,  and  if  his  heart  was  anxious,  also. 
lie  knew  Beverly's  division  was  expected,  but 
ho  thought  as  he  fought,  "  I  reckon  Fd  just  as 
lieve  Beverly  shouldn't  Ije  with  them.  If  lie 
were  on  sick  leave  or — or — something."  He 
felt  a  little  sense  of  shame  for  the  thought,  and 
fought  the  more  determinedly  because  of  it.  The 
gallant  Confederates  were  flushed  by  their  gain 
of  the  day  before.  Xo  one  would  have  dreamed 
that  tliey  were  exhausted  by  a  long  march  be- 
fore the  surprise.  No  one  would  have  dreamed 
that  they  were  hungry,  and  that  their  supply- 
wagons  had  not  come  up  until  long  after  the 
struggle.  No  one  would  have  dreamed  that 
they  had  been  kept  up  all  night  by  the  bom- 
bardment from  the  distant  gunboats.  No  one 
would  have  dreamed  that  out  of  that  intrepid 
——  Louisiana,  with  its  challenge  again  on  th§ 


276  AY  rXOFFK'lAL   PATUIOT. 

tree  tlici'e,  WdiiM  never  muster  again  over  three 
liundrLMl  and  t\\-riity-seven  of  tlie  six  Imrulred 
iiuTry  fellows  who  Hung-  tlieinsclvfS  up  tliat 
hill  only  twi'h't'  short  lioui's  ago  I 

"()nr  side  het  is  np.  hoys,  l:)y  thr  jiiinping 
jingo!*'  said  one  of  the  relieved  plidvets  the 
hrsi  thing  in  the  morning.  "It  is  written  on  a 
slah  this  time.  I  don't  know  when  thev  got  it 
ujt.  I  laid  for  it  all  night,  and  \\-as  going  to 
pi(dc  the  fellow  off  ^\'ho  eame  (»ut  to  that  tree, 
but  it  was  darker  than  a  pile  of  eoke  last 
night,  and,  if  hell  ever  saw  sueli  a  rain  1)etVn'e, 
tile  lires  must  all  1.)e  rmt — soaked  through. 
Don't  helieve  thei'e  is  a  dry  s})Ot  in  the  devil's 
domain  tr)-day.  AVhew  !  Look  at  my  Loots  I 
I  had  ti^  stop  and  serape  the  mud  off  every  four 
steps  all  night  long.  ]My  feet  were  as  liig  as  a 
horse's  head— and  it's  mighty  good  Bihlc  mtid, 
too — stieketh  eloser  than  a  hrother." 

The  hoys  had  laughed  and  agreed  that  they 
would  get  the  new  ehallenge  somehow.  The 
news  that  it  was  itp  again,  and  on  a  stil)stan- 
tial  slah,  ^-hieh  seemed  to  aggravate  the  offense 
in  some  inex[iliealile  'wav,  spread  and  aroused 
the   young   fellows   anew.     They  would    have 


.-l.Y  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  Ttl 


that  slab  or  die  in  llio  attem2:it.  The  side  bet, 
as  the}'  called  it,  iniist  be  won.  They  were 
making  straight  for  it,  and  the  Confederates 
^^-ere  liolding-  their  position  with  grim  and 
dogged  determination.  A  sudden  onrusli  of 
fresh,  eager,  rested,  entliusiastie  men,  yelling  as 
they  came  from  the  gunboats,  dashed  from  the 
steamboat  landing  and  flung  themselves  against 
the  lines.  The  relief  had  come !  Regiment 
after  regiment  dashed  past.  Every  new  one 
was  felt  like  a  blast  of  cold  wind  in  the  face  of 
a  belated  ti'aveler.  The  Confederate  lines  Avav- 
ered,  l)roke,  rallied,  retreated,  reformed.  More 
fresh  troops  came  and  swept  })ast  like  lire  in  a 
field  of  grain.  Discouraged  men  felt  the  brac- 
ing influence  and  stimulant  on  the  one  side. 
On  the  other,  it  seemed  that  at  last  {he  billows 
of  the  ocean  had  broken  upon  them,  and  they 
must  yield  or  be  forever  overwhelmed.  As 
each  new  regiment  came  up,  Avith  its  shout  and 
wild,  eager  dasli  in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  the 
ground  was  being  gathered  in  like  thread  on  a 
great  spool  as  it  revolves.  Inch  by  inch  the 
line  yielded.  The  river  was  left  behind,  with 
its  horrible  secret,  to  keep  its  bloody  tryst  with 


27S  .1-V   rXOFFK  lAL   PATUJOT. 

tlie  sea  :  to  cany  its  drift  of  g'allaiit  men,  ^y]lO 
would,  alas,  lie  gallant  no  more,  on  the  infinite 
wanderings  of  its  waves,  as  tliey  ran  and 
jstiaiggled  in  vain  to  leave  heliind  the  memory 
and  the  hni'den  of  the  pitiless  struggle  and  car- 
nage— the  relies  of  man's  po\A"er  and  eourage 
and  savagery,  to  do  and  to  dii.;  ly  and  for  his 
fellon-man,  that  he  may  adjust  differences  lie 
himself  has  I'aised  fi-om  the  inlinite  depths  of  his 
own  ignorance — from  the  hlinchiess  of  his  be- 
nighted past  I  And  still  the  river  ran  on  in  its 
hopcdess  elToi't,  for  the  human  tlrift  ke})t  pace, 
and  the  awful  battle  ^^'as  lost  and  won.  Shiloli 
had  passed  into  histor}',  and  Grant  was  famous! 
The  c(juntrv  took  stock  of  its  loss  ami  its  gain. 
One  more  milestone  in  the  devious  road  was 
past.  One  more  I'eef  was  taken  in  the  iri'cpress- 
ible  conflict.  The  Xorth  rejoiced.  The  South 
sorrowed,  and  mothers,  M'ives,  sisters,  and  sweet- 
hearts stared  at  the  -wall  and  we})t  and  nifianed 
for  the  treasure  that  Mas  lost,  for  the  price  that 
was  paid,  and  took  up  anew  their  stunned  and 
silent  part,  and  waited  and  ho[)ed  and  prayed. 
One  of  the  first  regiments  to  dash  past  into 
tlie  hell  of  shot  and  .shell  was  Beverly's.     lie 


.l.V  ry OFFICIAL  PATIilOT.  279 

had  iioUced,  as  peo[)le  A^■ill  notice  trivial  tilings 
ill  tlie  luiclst  of  great  crises,  a  hoard  nailed  to  a 
tree.  AVlien  the  hattle  was  over  he  had  searched 
for  his  hrot]ier"s  regiment.  At  last  he  had  found 
it,  but  Roy  was  not  there.  Sonic  one  said  he 
liad  fallen,  others  said  he  had  heen  ca[)tiired  just 
Ijcfoi'c  the  relief  came — ''  Right  up  there  V)}'  the 
challenge — hy  the  tree."  Beverly  rode  l)ack 
toward  the  liill.  sick  and  faint  at  licart.  He 
wondered,  ^itli  a  thrill  oi  superstitious  fear,  if 
that  hoard  was  to  l)e  a  sort  of  grave-mark  for  liis 
brother,  and  if  that  was  the  reason  he  had  no- 
ticed the  ridiculous  challenge  at  such  a  time. 
He  would  go  back  to  the  mark  and  search  for 
his  brother.  He  got  down  from  his  horse  and 
tied  him  to  tlie  tree.  The  challenge  was  still 
there.  He  had  no  heart  to  read  it,  but  started 
on  his  sickening  search.  Face  after  face  that  he 
knew — boys  from  the  old  college — looked  up  at 
him — some,  alas,  with  stark,  unseeing  eyes,  and 
others  Avho  1)egged  for  lielp.  Boys  he  liad  in  the 
old  days  cared  for  with  youthful  fervor,  and  3'et 
tliey  seemed  as  nothing  to  him  now  ;  he  must  not 
lose  time — he  must  find  his  brother.  Again 
and  again  lie  turned  a  bloody  face  upAvard  only 


liSO  .LV   J' y OFFICIAL  I'ATIUOr. 

to  exclaim,  '•  Tliaiilc  (iod!"'  ^\•]]en  lie  did  not 
know  llic  features.  ()li.  tli''  iiiliiiili,'  sellisliiies.s 
of  LoAe  '  llie  1(1}'  it  iiialces  of  our  liuinan  sym- 
patldes  I  Tlie  coiitiMciioii  it  puts  u[)on  our  gen- 
erosity <»f  soul  I  'I'lii'  limitations  it  sets  u[)on 
oui'  liel|ifidiiess  I  Wdien  l\\iliL;ld  came  ^)e^■erly 
\\'as  still  seai'eliiiiL;'  ^^iv  liis  In'otlier,  and  tliankiiii;' 
(Iod,  in  the  face  of  ^'ver\'  manL;le<l  form,  that  it 
\\as  the  fac(.'  of  some  ollu'i'  man's  brother — some 
otiier  mothei"s  soli  !  lie  li.'tui'Ued  to  the  camp 
for  a  li^ht.  He  could  not  \\ait  until  morninq' 
to  l)e  sure  that  llov  ^\"as  ca[iture(l.  He  hoped 
and  pi-a\'ed  that  it  mi^ht  he  so,  hut  lie 
nuist  know.  \o  repoil  had  come  to  the  ivgi- 
nient.  lJo\'  had  not  Ijeen  found  or  recognized, 
pjcverly  \\'ent  hastily  thi'ouyh  the  hospital  tents. 
Ivoy  liad  not  heen  hrought  in.  The  searidi  on 
the  held  heyan  ag-ain — the  search  for  }[]<-  hi'othiM'. 
The  lelief  coips  were  working'  heroically.  ^leii 
Avith  stretchers  passed  and  re[)assed  him,  and 
still  lieverly  looked  in  vain.  lie  tui-ne<l  his 
dark  lantern  on  the  stretchers  as  they  a[tproached 
Inm,  and  sighed  Avitii  relief  as  each  [lassed  on. 
lie  came  to  the  s[iot  where  the  little  church  had 
stood,   now  dismantled   and   wrecked  hy  shell. 


AN  UNOFFJCIAL  PATRIOT.  2S1 


One  after  another  lie  turned  tlie  faces  of  pros- 
trate nien  upward.  The  night  was  weariug-  on. 
lie  was  des[)erate,  discouraged,  and  3'et  lie  had 
begun  to  settle  into  a  solid  hope  that  Koj  had 
been  captured  and  taken  back  into  the  Confed- 
erate ranks  before  the  relief  had  come.  He  was 
making  his  way  back  to  the  tree  and  his  impa- 
tient horse,  when  he  heard  a  gurgling  o-roan  in 

^  0000 

a  niudd}"  ravine  through  which  the  retreating 
cannon  had  gone.  ITe  turned  aside  and  searched 
with  his  lantern  again.  Deep  in  the  stiff  mud 
lay  a  young  officer,  llis  legs  were  deeply  im- 
bedded. Evidentl}'  the  Avheel  of  a  cannon-car- 
riage, or  some  other  heavy  wheel,  had  passed 
over  him  and  crushed  liis  legs  into  the  soft 
earth.  He  had  lain  directly  in  the  path  of  the 
retreating  ordnance.  The  deep  tracks  told 
wdiere  the  wheels  had  been.  Beverlj-  turned 
sick.  He  stooped  to  lift  tlie  face  that  lay  half 
in  the  mud  and  water. 

''  Oh,  Roy  !  Ro}^ !  my  brother  !"  he  gasped  and 
fell  upon  his  knees.  Ilis  hand  trembled  so  that 
the  canteen  fell  from  his  grasp.  He  groped  for 
it  as  the  lantern  lay  beside  him,  and  one  hand 
still   held   the    face   above    the  earth.     "Roy ! 


282 


AX  rxOFFICIAL  PATUIOT. 


llnv  I  can  yi>ii  liL'ur  me  ?  Can  ynu  licar  iiic  ?  It  is 
Yiuirl)roilicr  I  It  is  IJcvei'ly  !  ""  lie  erie<l  out,  l)ut 
fur  ri'i'ly  tlici-r  ^\'as  tuilv  tliat  L;'iiri;'liiiy  ^'iTiaii,  I'ol- 
I()\\c'(l  hy  aimllK.T  ami  aiiollicr — ami  llicii  si  Ir  lire. 

'•()li,  my  ( Iml  !"'  cried  licvcrh'.  ••  What  can 
I  <In?  It  will  l<ill  liim  t(i  try  to  lift  tlm.se  po(,r 
cI'UsIkmI  1cl;s  and "" 

TIh-  IIljIiI  fell  on  tilt'  Lrcast.  and  tlicrc.  for  tlie 
lii'st  (imc.  licNcrly  saw  that  it  vras  not  mml 
alone  that  lav  there,  l)ut  that  a  piece  of  spent 
shell  was  hall' ernshed  into  Iio\'"s  side.  It  was 
plain  now.  IJov  had  fallen  with  that,  and  the 
retreating;'  hatlerv  had  dl■i^'en  over  his  lielpless 
form.  lieverlv  Avijied  the  mudaiid  }io\V(lin'  from 
his  brother's  faee  and  bent  down  and  kissed  the 
parted  lips. 

'•  (.)Ii,  my  l)i'(nher  I  my  hrotherl  I  came  too 
late  at  last !  I  thonu'ht  all  the  way  on  the  river, 
and  then,  as  we  dashed  tip  that  hill,  I  thotight 
wc  had  eome  in  time  to  save  yon,  and  I  was  so 
glad  I  Roy,  T  })ra}ed  m.)t  to  l:)e  too  late  I  Some- 
how I  th(.)tn_;'ht  yon  M'ere  tip  there.  .\nd  yon 
were  liere — here,  with  this  gliastly  A^•otlnd — and 
they  drove  over  yon  I  O.  Roy.  IJoy.  my  brother, 
how  can  I  ever  tell  mother?     How  ean  I?" 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  283 


The  long-,  gurgling-  luoan  came  again.  Bev- 
erly sprang  to  Lis  feet  and  shouted  for  help. 
Shout  after  shout  rang-  out.  At  last  a  reply 
came,  and  then, men  with  a  stretcher. 

"  I  have  found  my  l)rother,""  was  all  Beverly 
could  say.  His  own  voice  seemed  strange  and 
distant  to  him.  The  meu  set  about  lifting-  the 
bod}'  from  its  bed  of  clay — the  body  of  this 
spruce  young  officer  who  had  beeu  so  eager  that 
his  brother  should  feel  proud  to  see  him  in  his 
new  uniform  with  the  llrst-lieuteuant's  straps ! 
No  one  could  tell  what  the  uniform  was  now, 
and  the  jaunty  cap  and  })olished  sword  were 
gone  !  Tlie  strong  3'oung  legs  and  the  erect 
figure  could  boast  of  its  extra  inch  no  louQ-er. 
Beverly  breathed  hard  as  the  men  Avorked. 
"  Tm  afraid  he's  too  far  gone  to  help  now,  cap- 
tain.    It ■' 

'' Oh,  let  me  lift  his  head!  I  can't  pull  on 
those  poor  cruslied  legs  !  Be  so  careful !  Oh, 
God  !  oh,  God  !  how  cruel !  Be  so  careful  I — 
oh,  Roy  !  Boy  I — We  are  trying-  to  be  so  careful, 
Roy  !  AYe  try  not  to  luu't  you  so  I  iNIy  God, 
how  cruel !     I  cannot  bear  it,  brother  !  *' 

The  body  was  on  the  stretcher  at  last,  and 


284 


AX   rXOFFK  7. 1  /.   I'.  1  TlilOT. 


Ijt^verly  ^^■a.s  ^vi|)illy•  ^tlmI  beads  of  aiiguisli  iVoni 
his  own  fart'.  Owv  [loor  Icl;-  was  CTiished  jiear 
tlic  hip.  and  hail  hfcii  hard  to  manan'c.  Tiie 
L;'roans  had  hrcoiuL'  more  (hsliiirt  and  l'i-c(|m.'nt. 
Idii'ii.  "Dr — (h'.'"  canic  from  tlie  lips. 

'•IK-re.  here,  u'ivc  mr  a  caniei/n!  1  lost  mine 
(h)wii  there.  (^)iiick.  lie  wants  a  driiiic.  I  think. 
Here,  hrolher  Roy.""  lieverly  put  a  liand  under 
liis  head.  "•Here.  iJoy,  dear,  can  you  s\vallo\\- ? 
( )h.  it  liurtshim  so  !  Here,  brother,  iini  hrollier  ! 
Oh,  Koy,  I  A\is]i  il  Were  I!  Can  you  hear  me? 
Can  A'ou  hear  nie.  Ivoy?" 

'Jdie  men  willi  tlie  streteher  turned  tlieir  faees 
away  and  drew  their  sh'eves  aeross  their  eyes. 
ICven  tiicv  who  liad  workeil  all  niyht  M'ith  and 
for  the  dead  and  d\'ing  were  moved  anew  hy  the 
youny  ofiicer's  sorrow.  Beverly  looked  up 
liopefully. 

'•  I  think  he  swallo\A'ed  just  a  little.  Let  us 
gx't    him    to    a    surgeon,    (puidv.      Perhaps,   per- 

]ia})s *"     l>everly    looked    from    one    to    the 

other  and  eould  not  linish  his  sentence.  The 
little  group  ]noved  wearily  toward  the  hospital 
tents,  and  Ijeverly  I'an  for  the  surgeon  of  his 
own  company. 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  285 

"My  God,  doctor,  lie  lias  been  driven  over, 
and  lie  is  wounded  in  the  breast  besides  !  Do 
3'ou  think  there  is  any  liojte  ?  C)li,  how  I  wish 
it  were  1 1  0\u  doetor,  can't  you  save  him  ?  It 
is  my  brother — my  Ijrother  Roy  !  "' 

The  surgeon  was  listening  as  he  worked. 

"  The  best  thing  that  could  have  happened  to 
him  is  that  he  was  so  deep  in  that  mud.  It  has 
kept  the  fever  down.  It  has  saved  his  leg.  It 
isn't  badly  swollen.  I  can  set  this  bone.  I 
don't  think  the  other  one  is "  lie  was  ex- 
amining and  talking  slowly.  lie  changed  to 
the  wound  in  the  breast.  "  This  is  the  most — 
this  is  the  worst,  but  I  don't  think  the  lung  is 
badly — this  plaster  of  mud  on  his  breast " 

"  I  took  it  nearly  all  off,  doctor.  It  was  very 
thick  when  I  found  him,  and  this "  Bev- 
erly took  a  large  jagged  ]^)iece  of  sludl  from  his 
pocket.  "  This  was  down  in  it.  I  think  it  must 
have  struck  and  stunned  him,  and  while  he  was 
helpless  those  cruel  wheels  went  over  him.  His 
body  was  as  if  he  had  fallen  on  his  liack,  but 
the  legs  were  twisted  as  if  he  had  been  on  his 
side.  The  mud  was  nearly  two  feet  deep.  It 
was  an  awful  place,  awful !     And  to  think  that 


:2S6  .l^Y   rXOFVK'lAL  PATIIIOT. 


llicy  .sliould  luivo  driven  over  lioy !  Do  you 
t],ink ?" 

''  That  Avas  llie  Ix'st  place  lie  could  have  been. 

Tliat  nuid  lias  acted  like ""      The  doctor  Avas 

tahiiiL;'  protessi(.)iial  ])ridc  in  the  ca.se.  The 
woniided  man  yroaned. 

'•  ( )h,  how  it  seems  to  hui't  him.  doctor  I  Can't 
you — can't  T — conhlnt  A\"e  t4i\'e  liim  sometliing 
to  deaden — ?  He  ^\■as  never  so  strong  as  I. 
lie •• 

*•'  You'd  Ix'tler  l;'('  away,  captain.  You're 
1)rave  enough  for  vourself,  l)nt  vou'd  Ijetter  go 
away.  Ill  do  ]iiy  level  Lest  for  him.  I  don't 
think  this  wound  is  hital  —  and  the  nnid  ponl- 
tice  was  the  very  best  thing-  that  could  liave 
]ia})pened  to  him,  really.  Tlie  wlieel  that  threw 
that  did  him  a  greater  service  than  it  did  injury 
to  liis  leg.  I — you  had  better  go  and  lie  down 
for  a  while,  captain.  I'll  do  everything  possible, 
and — well,  I  ho[)e  his  lung  is  not  very  seriously 
implicated.  I  hope  ^\'^  can  pull  him  through. 
I  feel  sure  of  the  leg  and — go  and  lie  down. 
You  can't  do  any  good  here,  and  you  mustn't 
lose  your  nerve  that  way.  If  he — if  I — -if  lie 
regains  consciousness  I'll  call  you.     Try  to  get 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  287 

a  little  rest  for  to-morrow.     Try.     You  may  be 
needed  then.     You  must  have  your  nerve  then, 

too,  if  he  should  open  his  eyes  and *' 

"  Ifhii  should  open  his  eyes  I  "  Beverly  turned 
away  and  sat  with  his  face  in  his  hands.  "  How 
can  I  write  it  to  mother,"  he  moaned — ''  how 
can  I  ?  How  can  I  ?  And  father  may  not  be 
there  to  help  her  bear  it !  Oh,  Roy,  Roy,  my 
brother  !  " 


288  AN  UNOFFTCTAL   PATUIOT. 


riiAi^ri:ij  xix. 

"  ITow  dear  to  nu'  lieart  arc  the  sci'n("<  nf  my  diil  Ilioinl." 

WlTEX  IIk'  news  (if  the  li;iltlc  iv;iclie(l  Kalh- 
eriiu',  she  was  slill  alniic.  (iril'lilh  liad  not 
comj)letL'd  tlu'  task  set,  and  was  still  in  tlic  lent 
of  the  iraseihh.'  Oeiierah  wIiom'  ehief  ar(|iiaiid- 
anee  with  the  l->iij.disli  hiiin'iia^'e  a|i[>eafed  to  lie 
ill  his  explosive  and  ever  ready  pi'ofanity.  lie 
swore  if  things  went  right,  and  he  swore  if  they 
went  wrong.  If  he  liked  a  man,  lie  swore  at 
liini  playftiUy.  and  if  he  disliked  him,  he  swore 
at  him  in  M'rath.  Ilis  ammunition  might  give 
out,  l)ut  a  volley  of  oaths  was  never  wanting  to 
lire  at  the  enemy.  It  sometimes  seemed  to 
Griftith  the  irony  of  fate  that  he  should  l)e  [)laeed 
in  the  same  tent  and  elosely  associated  Avith  such 
a  man,  for,  although  Griffith  said  nothing,  it 
grated  sadly  upon  his  ears,  and  he  sometimes 
wondered  if  the  Almighty  would  prosj^er  an 
expedition  led  by  this  man,  for  Griffith  had  kept 


AN  Uy OFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  289 

still,  through  all  the  years  the  primitive  idea  of 
a  personal  God  who  takes  cognizance  of  the 
doings  of  men,  and  meets  and  parries  them  by- 
devices  and  schemes  of  His  own. 

As  time  went  on,  and  Lengthy  Patterson  re- 
covered from  his  wound  so  as  to  he  always  in 
evidence,  he  came  in  for  a  large  share  of  the 
General's  explosive  and  meaningless  oaths. 
Sometimes  it  was  half  in  fnii,  more  often  it  was 
in  memory  of  the  fact  that  Lengthy  had  ignored 
him  and  his  questions  upon  their  first  meeting, 
and  that  up  to  tliis  day  the  lank  mountaineer 
took  his  orders  and  his  cue  from  Griftith  only. 
He  had  attached  himself  to  the  sharpshooters 
and  rarely  left  Griftith's  side.  As  silent  and 
faithful  as  a  dog  he  rode  day  after  day,  with 
watchful  eyes,  by  the  side  of  or  just  behind  "■  the 
Parson,"  as  he  still  cilled  the  object  of  his 
adoration.  He  watched  Griffith  narrowly.  He 
noticed  the  growing  sachiess  of  the  old-time 
meny  face.  He  felt  that  something  was  wrong. 
At  last  the  silence  could  be  preserved  ]io  longer, 
he  must  know  what  the  trouble  was.  They 
were    near   the    borders    of   the    county   where 

Griffith's  old  home  was.     Lengthy  had  exj)ectr 
19 


200  AX  rXOFFICTAL   PATRTOT. 

cm]  to  see  liis  faco  gi'ow  interested  and  l^riglit, 
but  instead  tliciv  seeine<l  to  eomc  over  it  a 
drawn  and  liaL;L;-ar<.l  Inolc  that  was  a  puzzde  and 
a  toi'inent  ti»  llie  MOddsniau,  lie  ventured  a 
remark  as  they  rdde  apait  from  tlie  rest. 

-  Sick  ?  ■' 

"No,  no,  Lenq'tliy.     Fni  not  siek.     Whv  ? '* 

"  Yell  never  talk  no  nio*.  Heard  yeli  kinder 
gi'oan.      Few-words-eoni[ii'eliends-tir-w]i<)le."" 

Oriflitli  turneil  liis  ta(;e  full  upon  liini. 

"' J.eiiglliy,  it  is  almost  more  than  I  can  Ijear 
to  do  this  Avoik.  I — it  is — sometimes  I  think  I 
cd/ni'it  take  then)  over  there."  He  held  out  his 
liand  toward  the  heauliful  valley  in  the  dis- 
tanee.  They  eonld  see  the  thread  of  the  river 
winding  throiigli  the  trees  and  out  into  field 
and  farm.  It  was  the  river  in  which  Lengthy 
liad  seen  this  friend  of  his  baptized,  so  many 
years  ago,  when  l)()th  were  young  men,  and  now 
l)oth  were  growing  gray  ! 

Lengthy  made  no  reply.  The  silenee  stretched 
into  minutes.  They  halted  for  the  noon  meal 
and  to  feed  and  rest  the  horses.  They  all  lay 
aljout  on  the  hill,  and  Griffith  talked  to  the 
engineers.     They  drew  lines  and  made  figures 


AN  rX OFFICIAL  PATEIOT.  291 


and  notes.  An  liour  later  tliey  [)Usliod  on 
toward  the  river.  Lengtliy  and  Griflitli  rode  in 
front.  Tlie  old  mill  wliere  Pete  Lad  rini  away 
apjx'ared  in  the  distance.  The  river  was  very 
near  now.  A  heavy  sigh  from  Gritiith  broke 
the  silence.  He  was  looking  far  aliead  and  his 
face  was  di'awn  and  miserable. 

-  What  d'  yeh  go  fer  ?  " 

Griflith  did  not  hear.  His  chin  liad  dropped 
upon  his  breast,  and  his  face  was  pale.  His  lips 
moved,  and  tlie  mountaineer  waited.  At  last 
he  said  :  -  What  yeh  do  hit  fer  ?  " 

"What?" 

»  What  yeh  do  hit  fer,  'f  yeh  don't  want  teh  ?  " 

"Do  what?     Go  here?" 

"  Yeh  ?  ". 

"  I  am  a  Union  man,  Lengthy.  The  President 
sent  for  me  and  asked  me  to  do  it.  He  made 
me  see  it  was  my  duty.     There  was  no  one  else 

he  could  trust,  who  knew  the  country.     I " 

There  was  a  long  pause.  The  mountaineer 
threw  his  leg  up  over  the  front  of  his  saddle, 
and  ruminated  on  tlie  new  outlook.     Presently 

Griffith  went  on  :  "  Some  one  must  do  it,  but " 

He  lifted  his  face  toward  the  blue  above  him ; 


292  Ay  rXOFFK'IAL  patjuot. 

'*01i,  my  (iod,  if  this  ru|t  could  but  pas.s  from 
riw .' "  ]r'  q-roaiicd  aloud.  ''It  secuis  to  me  I 
eanuot  (U'oss  that  riwr  I  It  secius  to  me  I  (um- 
■not  !  "     Ilis  voice  l)rol\('  and  there  ^^'as  silence. 

"  Don't  Heed  tell'.*" 

Griflitli  did  not  licai'.  Ilis  eves  were  closed 
and  he  was  ])rayiiiL;-  for  li^lil  and  leading',  as  he 
would  have  ca]le(l  it  —  for  strenu'lh  to  do  the 
dreade(|  task,  if  il  must  l)e  done.  Leiig'tliy 
looke(l  at  liiin.  and  tlieii  at  ihe  not  far  distant 
river,  and  waited  in  silence.  iV  half  mile 
farther  on  he  said,  as  if  tlie  chain  of  remarks 
had  l)een  nnl)ro]cen  :  '-Don't  need  teh  cross.  I 
will  fer  veil." 

'■  Wiiat  ?  "  cried  Griilith,  like  a.  man  avIio  has 
heard  and  is  afi'aid  to  l)elieve. 

"Said  yell  didn't  need  teh  cross.  I  Avill  fer 
yell.  Few-words-comprehends-th'-whole,"  he  re- 
peated, in  the  same  level  key,  looking  straight 
;it  his  horse's  ears. 

Grilhth's  bridle  fell  upon  his  horse's  neck. 
Botli  arms  lifted  themselves  up,  and  ])oth  hands 
spread  as  if  to  grasp  sometlhng.  ''  Oh,  1113-  God, 
is  my  prayer  to  l)e  answered  so  soon?  Do  you 
mean — oh.  Lengthy,  do  you  mean  that  you  will 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  093 

save  me  from  this  terrible  trial  ?  Do  3'ou 
mean " 

'•'  I  does,"  lie  was  gazing  straiglit  aliead  of 
liiin  now,  with  elaborate  [)retense  of  indifference. 
He  had  begun  to  grasp  the  situation. 

(Iril'lith  droj)ped  botli  liands  upon  his  uplifted 
face,  and  a  cry  as  of  one  in  great  pain  escaped 
him,  "  0-h^h,"  in  a  long  quaver.  The  moun- 
taineer turned  his  eyes.  Griffith  was  looking 
straight  at  him  now,  like  a  hunted  man  who  at 
last  sees  hope  and  rescue  ahead,  but  dares  not 
trust  it  lest  it  prove  but  an  illusion.  He  tried 
to  speak,  but  his  voice  failed  him.  The  moun- 
taineer understood. 

"  Yeh  kin  so  home.  I'll  do  hit.  Few 
words " 

Griffith  was  overtaken  Avith  hysterics.  He 
threw  both  arms  above  his  head  and  shouted, 
'^  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest !  Peace  and 
good  will  to  men  !  "  and  covered  his  face  with 
his  hands  to  hide  the  emotion  he  could  not  con- 
trol. They  were  on  the  banks  of  tlie  river  now, 
and  the  commander  dashed  up.  '•  What  in  hell's 
the  matter  now  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Hit's  the  river  done  it,"  put  in  the  mountain- 


294  AX  TxorFir'TAL  path  tot. 

et'i',  to  save  his  friend  the  need  of  words.  '•  ]jap- 
tize<l  lliar."" 

'•  AVlial  ?  AVliat  in  the  (h'vil  are  you  talking 
ahoiit  ■/      Wliat  ill ■"■ 

lie  ^vas  liKtkingal  ( iriflilh.  hut  hriigtliv  l)roke 
ill  again  witli  liis  pcrfn-tl v  h'Vcl  and  emotion- 
h'ss  vrticr.  ••  Uajitizud  ihar.  I  sez.  Few-words- 
e()iii[ireliends-lli" *' 

••  Will  you  di'\'  ii[(  ?    You  infernal AVhat 

docs  this  mean'/"'  He  tui'iied  again  to  Griflitli, 
Avho  liad  regained  his  self-er)ntri>l.  The  eoni- 
mander  usitally  aeted  upon  hini  as  a  refrigeraloi', 
so  ineapahle  was  ]\v  of  understanding  htinian 
eni(»tion  that  reaehed  heyond  the  limits  of  irri- 
tahility. 

*•  (xenerah"'  lie  hegan,  slowly,  "I  liaye  just  ar- 
ranged with  Mr.  Patterson  for  him  to  take  niy 
phiee  as  Goyernment  Guide.  I  ean  go  with  you 
no  farther.  That  house  oyer  there  in  the  dis- 
tance "" — he  stretelied  out  his  hand — "  used  to 
be  my  old  home.  I  loye  the  people  who  liye 
here — all  abt)ut  here.     This  riyer " 

A  yolley  of  oaths'  interrtt[)ted  Griftith.  The 
command  had  come  up,  an^d  the  staff-officers  sat 
listening  and  waitino-.     The  General  was  chaim- 


.4.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  295 

ing  liis  lirst  outburst  into  arguments.  GritHth 
met  them  quite  calmly.  It  seemed  a  long  time 
now  since  lie  liad  found  the  relief  he  felt.  It 
did  not  seem  possible  that  it  was  only  ten  min- 
utes ago  that  it  had  come  to  him. 

'^  This  man  knows  the  country  even  better 
than  I  do,  General,  lie  is  willing  to  go — to 
take  my  place — and  he  is  perfectly  loyal — Io//al 
to  one.  lie  will — what  Mr.  Lincoln  wanted  was 
that  the  work  should  be  done,  and  done  by  one 
he  could  trust — it  was  not  that  he  wanted  me 
to  do  it.  I  Avill  stake  my  honor  on  this  man's 
fidelity.  He ""  The  word  "  deserter,"'  min- 
gled Avitli  threats,  struck  Griffith's  ear  ;  he  did 
not  pause  to  analyze  it.  "  Mr.  Lincoln  told  me 
that  I  was  to  return  to  him  whenever  I " 

"-  God  damn  Mr.  Lincoln  !  Zam  in  command 
of  these  troops  !  Mr.  Lincoln  didn't  know  he 
■was  giving  me  a  couple  of  lunatics  to  deal  with ! 
If  you  attempt  to  leave  you  will  be  shot  as  a  de- 
serter, I  tell  you  !     I'll  do  it  myself,  by  God  !  " 

Griffith's  head  dropped  against  his  breast.  He 
dismounted  slowly  and  handed  his  bridle  to  the 
mountaineer.  Lengthy  hooked  it  over  his  arm 
and  waited.     Mr.  Davenport  deliberately  knelt 


29G  AX  rxOFFICIAL  PATFJOT. 

by  the  bank  of  the  river,  with  his  face  toward 
the  ohl  home. 

"  Slioot.  I  willg'oiio  farther!  ""  he  said,  and 
eh)sed  his  eyes. 

Instantly  the  nionntaineer's  g'un  went  to  his 
shoulder.  His  aim  was  at  tlie  (icncral's  Ijreast. 
'*  Few-words-eom[)rcliends-th"-wliok'.""  he  said, 
and  the  luunmer  clicked.  The  ( leJieral  smiled 
grimly. 

''  CtcI  up,"  he  said.  "  I  had  no  right  to  make 
that  threat.  Yon  are  a  piivate  citizen.  You 
came  of  ^'onr  own  accord.  You  '//v  under  Lin- 
coln oidy.  (ret  up  I  Can  we  trust  this  man, 
danni  liim  ?  " 

(Ji'il'lith  staggered  to  liis  feet.  The  storm  had 
left  liim  weak  and  ])ale.  'Jlie  mountaineer  dis- 
mounted and  stood  beside  him. 

"You  mean  to  lake  my  })la(/e  in  good  faith — 
to  lead  tliem  riglit  — I  know.  Lengthy;  l)ut  tell 
liim  so  for  iiu\"  (iriflith  asketl,  in  a  tired  yoice, 
taking  the  swarthy  liand  in  his.  "  You  will 
do  your  best  as  a  guide  in  my  place,  won't 
you?"' 

Lcngthy's  response  was  nnequiyocal.  "I 
will,"    he    said    in    his    monotoncms    tone,   and 


.l.V  VNOFFiriAL  PATRIOT.  297 


sonieliow,  as  they  stood  Land  in  hand  with  the 
curious  group  of  men  about  them,  the  re[)ly  re- 
minded every  one  of  the  response  in  tlie  mar- 
I'iage  serviee,  and  a  smile  ran  around  as  the  men 
gdanced  at  each  other. 

''You  jiromise  to  do  all  in  jour  knowledge 
and  power  to  enable  them  to  get  accurate  knowl- 
edge and  make  their  maps,  don'tjou.  Lengthy  ?  " 

"  I  do,"' 

The  similitude  struck  even  the  commander, 
and  when  Grifhtli  turned,  the  irascible  General 
was  trying  to  cover  a  smile. 

'•  Are  you  satisfied,  General  ?  I  Avill  stake 
my  life  on  both  his  capacity  to  do  it — even  bet- 
ter than  I — and  on  liis  honor  when  he  promises 
to  do  it  for  me.     Are  you  satisfied  ?  " 

"  Have  to  be  satisfied,  I  guess.  i\Iount  ! 
March  I " 

Griffith  lifted  the  liard,  brown,  rough  hand  in 
both  of  his  and  gravely  kissed  it.  "  You  are  the 
truest  friend  I  ever  had,  Lengthy.  God  bless 
and  protect  you  !     Goodbj^e." 

The  mountaineer  laid  the  great  hand  on  the 
palm  of  its  fellow,  and  looked  at  it  gravely  as 
he  rode. 


298  ^1^"  UXOFFICIAL   PATHIOT. 


''KissL'd  it.  liy  ,L;niii  I  ""      Ilr  g;i/.cd  at  tlie  spot 

in     yik'iit    awe      ••  l-\'\\'-\\()ixls-c(»iiij) "'      His 

voice  l)rok(_-,  and  lie  rode  away  at  the  lieadof  the 
coiumaiid,  still  hohliiiL;-  llio  sacred  hand  on  the 
jialiii  of  the  one  not  so  consecrated,  and  h)oked 
at  it  from  time  to  time  yith  silent,  I'everential 
a<hniralion.  His  L;'nn  lay  acir»ss  liis  saddle,  and 
the  horse  took  the  lord  as  one  to  the  manner 
born.  (Jn  the  i'arlher  hank  he  tiii'iied  and  looked 
back,  (iril'iilh  A\aved  his  handkerchief,  and 
every  man  in  the  command  joined  in  the  salute 
wheii  Leiigthy's  shout  rang  out,  "Three  cheers 
for  the  Parson  I  " 

Even  the  (ieneral's  hat  Avent  xi]\  and  Oi-ilhth 
rode  back  alone  oA'cr  the  path  he  had  but  just 
come,  alone — and  unguarded — but  villi  a  grea,t 
hiad  lil'led  from  his  shoulders,  bound  for  Wash- 
ington to  make  his  final  report  to  the  President, 
and  then  ]'etnrn  to  the  ways  and  haunts  of  peace. 

*••  1  b)me\\'ard  boujnl  I  liomewai'd  bound  !  thank 
God  I  *"  he  said,  aloiub  "  \\dth  life's  woist  and 
hardest  duty  <h)ne.  Surelv,  surelv,  niv  part  of 
this  terrilde  struggle  is  over!  It  has  shadowed 
me  for  twent}- l(^ng  years.  The  future  shall  be 
free.     Peaee  has  eome  for  me  at  last  ! " 


AK  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  299 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"  The  daj's  of  youth  are  the  days  of  gladness." 

"•  Deaf.  ]\Iother,"  wrote  Howard,  "  I  forgot 
to  write  last  week,  Init  then  there  wasn't  the 
first  tiling-  to  tell,  so  it  don't  matter.  We're 
just  loafing  here  in  camp  waiting  for  the  next 
move.  AVe  had  a  little  scrap  with  the  Johnnies 
ten  days  ago,  but  it  didn't  come  to  anything  on 
either  side.  They  are  sulking  in  their  tents  and 
we  are  dittoinor'  in  ours.  But  what  I  began  this 
letter  to  tell  is  really  funny,  and  I  don't  want 
to  forget  to  write  it.  The  other  day  a  slabsided 
old  woman  (you  never  did  see  such  a  funny 
looking  creature.  She  was  worse  than  the 
mountaineer  class  in  Virginia,  or  even  than  those 
Hoosiers  out  there  on  that  farm  near  ours.) 
Well,  she  came  to  our  camp  from  some  place 
back  in  the  country  and  asked  to  see  our  '  doctor 
man.'     She  seemed  to  think  there  was  but  one. 


300  AX  rXOFFTCTAL  PArUIOT. 


One  t»f  till'  surgeons  liad  a  lallv  \\\i\\  lioi',  and  it 
liii-iic<l  (lui-  ihai  luT  '  ok'  man,"  as  slie  callrd  licr 
Imsliand,  \\"as  'niit^lilv  l)ad  off  with  brcakljone 
k'\'(M',"  and  slit'  had  conic  to  see  if  the  Yankee 
doctor  man  wouhhft  liave  some  kind  of  stnff 
that  wonhl  cui-e  liim  the  lii'st  (h>se.  Tliese  kinds 
of  h)lks  tliink  our  (tfliccrs  and  tloctors  are  about 
onnii[)ot('nt.  because  our  men  are  so  nuuk  better 
fed  and  chjthed  and  e(j^tii|)[)cd  than  the  Johnnies 
are. 

'•■  •  VA  yob  can't  L;'immc  sumpin'  fer  my  ok^  man, 
(hictah.  lie's  jcs  boun'  ter  die,'  she  ke[)t  saving' 
oV(.'rand  over.  AVell,  the  doctor  (|Uestit>ned  her, 
and  came  to  the  conclusi(.)n  that  a  g(H)d  sweat 
M'oidil  be  about  the  proper  caper  to  ]-ecommend, 
and  he  told  her  to  cover  him  \\\)  -well,  and  then  to 
take  some  sage — they  all  haye  that  in  thegar(kMi 
and  mighty  little  else — and,  said  he,  '  take 
about  so  much  and  put  it  in  something' and  tiieu 
measure  out  exactly  one  quart  of  water  and  bi»il 
it  and  jiour  oyer  the  .sage.  Then  make  him 
drink  it  just  as  hot  as  he  can.  Xow  don't  forget, 
so  much  sage  and  exactly  a  (juart  of  water." 

"•  '  Yell  think  tliet's  agoin'  t"  cuah  ((-ure)  my 
ole  man,  doetali  ? '  saj's  ishe. 


AX  US  OFFICIAL   PATRIOT.  301 

'•  ••  I  think  it  is  Hie  Lest  tiling'  for  lihn  now. 
Be  stire  to  make  it  as  I  told  you — so  mueli  sage 
and  a  (j^uai't  of  water.' 

•' '  You  kin  bet  111  fix  lier  np  all  right,  doctah, 
ef  tliet's  a  goin'  t'  etiah  my  ole  man.'  Then  .she 
tramped  back  home.  The  next  da}-  she  appeared 
bright  and  early,  and  wanted  that  doctor  man 
again.  '  Well,  my  good  Avoman,  I  hope  your 
husband  is  feeling  a  good  deal  easier  after  his 
sweat.     I ' 

"'Naw  'e  hain't  nuther.  l\ly  ole  man,  he 
hain't  scooped  out  on  the  inside  like  you  Yanks 
is,  I  reckon.' 

"She  looked  pretty  Avorried.  'How's  that? 
How's  that  ? '  asked  the  doctor. 

"  '  "Wal,'  says  she,  '  I  jest  hoofed  hit  home  es 
quick  es  ever  I  could,  an'  I  tuck  au'  medjured 
out  thet  there  sage  an'  the  water — Jest  edzactly 
a  quat — an*  I  fixed  her  up  an  tuck  hit  t'  the  ole 
man.  I  riz  his  head  up,  mister — fer  he's  power- 
ful Aveak — an'  he  done  his  plum  best  t'  swaller 
hit,  but  the  fust  time  he  didn't  git  mo'n  halft 
down  till  he  hove  the  liuU  of  hit  up  agin.  I 
went  back  and  I  medjured  up  thet  there  sage 
ao-in  an'   the   water  an'  tried  him  agin,  but  he 


302  AN  UXOFFIC'TAL  PATBTOT, 


Iiovc  lier  lip  'fore  lie  got  lialt't  down.  iWil  1 
never  stoppc'(l  till  T  tries  ]iei'  agin,  an'  that  time, 
(loctali,  lie  (liiln't  ////  luilft  down.  Now,  doetali, 
tliet  tliere  ole  man  er  mine  lie  don't  liohl  l)ut 
a  pint.  I  reekon  you  Yanks  is  scooped  out 
tliinner  than  uhat  we  alls  is." 

"We  boys  just  yelled,  hut  the  poor  soiil 
loped  off  to  her  pint-iiicasurf  old  man  Avithout 
seeing  a  hit  oi  fun  in  it.  She  was  mad  as  a  wet 
lu'ii  mIu'II  the  doctor  told  her  she  needn  t  make 
him  drink  it  all  at  gug  fell  swoop.  She  vowed 
he  had  told  her  that  the  lii'st  time,  and  it's  my 
im[)ression  that  she  now  suspects  the  Yankees  of 
ti'ving  to  Lurst  her  old  man.  Tve  laughed  over 
it  all  dav.  so  I  thought  IM  write  it  to  you,  but 
it  don't  seem  half  so  funny  in  writing  as  it  was 
to  hear  it. 

''  (xlve  little  Maigaret  this  ring  I  put  in.  I 
cut  it  out  of  a  piece  of  laurel  root.  I  expect  it 
is  too  big  for  her,  but  she  can  have  some  fun 
with  it  I  reckon.  There  isn't  any  more  news, 
only  one  of  our  cannons  ex[tloded  the  other 
da}'.  It  didn't  do  much  damage.  I'm  not  sure 
that  I've  spelled  some  of  these  words  right,  but 
my  unabridged  is  not  handy  and  I'm  not  sorry. 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  303 


I  always  hated  to  look  for  words.  I  wish  you'd 
tell  some  of  the  town  boys  to  write  to  me. 
Letters  go  prett}^  good  in  camp  and  some  fellows 
get  a  lot.  I  don't  get  many.  It's  hard  to 
answer  them  if  you  get  many,  though,  so  I  don't 
know  which  is  worst.  This  is  the  longest  one 
I  ever  wrote  in  my  life.  I  forgot  to  tell  you  to 
tell  Aunt  Judy  I  met  a  fellow  from  "Washington 
and  he  said  the  twins  were  in  jail,  but  they  were 
let  out  to  work  on  some  Government  intrench- 
ments  near  by.  I  don't  know  what  they  were 
in  for.  The  fellow  didn't  know  about  our  other 
niggers.  Said  he  thouglit  Mark  and  Phillis 
were  dead  because  he  used  to  see  them  but 
hadn't  for  a  long  time.  Sajd  Sallie  worked  for 
his  mother  sometimes  and  that  is  how  he  knew 
so  much  about  them.  Two  or  three  of  the  boys 
got  shot  last  night  putting  cartridges  in  the  fire 
to  monkey  with  the  other  fellows.  Xone  of  'em 
hit  3'ours  truly.  My  hand  is  plum  woali  out,  as 
Aunt  Judy  would  say,  holding  this  pen — and  the 
thing  has  gone  to  Avalking  on  one  leg.  I  guess 
I  broke  the  point  off  the  other  side  jabbing  at  a 
fly.     Good-bye.     Write  soon, 

*'  Howard. 


au4  ^l-V   IWOrFICIAL  PATUIOT. 

"P.S.— I  forg'ot  to  s;iv  I  am  wi'll,  and  .send 
love.     I  wisli  I  liad  soino  lionie  grid). 

'■']'^»xv  LratlieTs  gol  a  l)ully  l)i»\  last  Avook. 
He  gave  inc  iiL'arly  lialf  of  his  fnut  iMkc.  Tlisj 
oilier  l)()vs  didn't  loiowlie  Lad  one.  Tliev  got 
(loiigliiints — l)ut  e\eii  doiigliuiits  are  a  lotl»ettcr 
tlian  the  grid)  ^ve  get.  11." 

Tlie  l)ox  of'"]ionie  gi'ult,'"  was  speedily 
packed  and  sent,  and  while  it  lasted  it  made 
mei'rv  the  hearts  of  his  mess.  Howard  said  in. 
one  of  his  letters  that  he  A\as  gro\'\-ing  Aeiy  tall. 
He  said  that  the  boys  deelared  that  '•  if  it  had 
not  heeii  for  his  eollai'  he  ^vunhl  ha^■e  heen 
split  all  the  way  np,  as  he  liad  run  chiefly  to 
legs."  Howard,  however,  ex[)ressed  it  as  his 
o\\'n  un])iased  opinion  that  it  was  jealousy  of  his 
al)ilit_v  to  walk  over  the  fences  that  they  had  to 
clind)  Avhicli  prompted  the  remark.  ''  I''"-'^}' 
lias  to  climb  for  it  and  I  put  one  leg  over  and 
then  I  put  the  other  over — and  thei'e  you  are," 
he  said.  Can:p  life  agreed  with  him,  and  the 
restraints  of  home  no  longer  rasping  his  temper, 
lie  seemed  to  l)e  the  gayest  of  the  gay.  Xothing 
troubled  him.     He  slept  and  ate  wherever  and 


.4.V  Uy OFFICIAL  FATRIOT.  305 


Avliencver  and  wliatevcr  fell  to  liis  lot ;  lived 
eaeli  day  as  it  eaiiie  and  gave  no  thought  to  its 
successor.  He  counted  up  on  his  iingers  when 
he  wrote  home  last,  and  tried  to  remember  to 
write  about  once  a  week,  because  his  mother 
begged  that  he  would,  and  jiot  at  all  Ijccause  the 
impulse  to  do  so  urged  him  or  because  he  cared 
especially  to  say  anything.  He  liked  to  get  let- 
ters, but  he  knew  he  was  sure  of  those  from 
home  whether  he  wrote  or  not,  and  so  his  replies 
liad  that  uncertainty  of  date  dependent  upon 
luck.  Xo  sense  of  responsibility  weighed  upon 
him,  and  his  mother's  anxiety  impressed  him — 
when  he  thought  of  it  at  all — as  a  bit  of 
Avomanisli  nonsense ;  natural  enough  for  a 
woman,  but  all  very  al)surd.  He  had  no  deeper 
mental  grasp  upon  it,  and  indeed  the  whole 
ethical  nature  of  this  boy  seemed  embrj-onic  ; 
and  so  it  was  that  his  camp  life  Avas  the  happiest 
he  had  ever  known — the  happiest  he  would 
ever  know. 
20 


r.nc.  .i.v  rxoFFK  i.i.L  patuiot. 


(  llAPTKIl  XXI. 

.   .   .   '■  Consiili'i',  I  pray, 
ITow  wo  cnmmoii  niotln-rs  stainl  di'Sdla'o,  mark. 
Whose  sons,  imt  liciui,^  Christs,    die  witli  cyi's  tunnel  away, 

Ami  no  last  wonl  to  say  I" 

Mrs.  llruirnhiij. 

'^  Deai;  littlk  Motuki;."  wiote  Beverly. 
"WliciiT  tek'L;T;i|ilif(l  yoii  last  tii-'lit  tliat  Hoy 
^Yas  \\-()im(lcMl  and  that  I  A\as  safe  and  ludmrt,  I 
feai-e(l  tliat  to-day  this  letter  ^v(luld  take  you 
most  terril)le  iie\\"s — yon  ^^•ho  have  the  hardest 
part  to  bear,  the  sih'iit,  inactive  part  of  waiting 
and  iincei'tainty  an<l  inaction  and  anxietv — Ijut 
to-day  I  feel  so  I'clieved  that  I  can  send  you  a 
very  hopeftil  letter.  The  doctor  says  that  Roy 
will  sureh'  live  ;  and  he  ho[)es  that  the  wounds 
will  not  prove  so  serious  as  we  feared  at  first 
and  as  tliey  hM)ked.  A  piece  of  shell  struck  him 
in  the  breast  but  it  must  have  been  a  spent 
shell,  for  althonc;'h  the  place  is  eonsideral)ly 
crushed  in,  the  doctor  now  feels  certain  tliat  no 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  307 


very  serious  damage  is  done  his  lung.  That 
was  Avhat  we  feared  at  first.  One  of  his  legs  is 
broken  near  the  liip,  but  it  is  set  and  the  doetor 
says  it  is  doing  well  and  will  do  so,  for  there  is 
almost  no  fever.  The  great  mud  poultice  that 
was  on  it  for  several  hours  at  first  was  his 
salvation,  so  the  surgeon  thinks.  I  Avill  not 
stop  to  explain  this  to  you  now,  but  when  Roy 
gets  home  he  will  tell  you,  for  he  remembers 
most  of  it  and  we  will  tell  him  the  rest.  But 
just  now  I  want  simply  to  tell  you  the  reassur- 
ing things  and  the  plans  I  have  made  for  Roy. 
He  is  perfectly  conscious  and  says  that  he  does 
not  suffer  very  much.  We  don't  allow  him  to 
talk,  of  course,  for  fear  of  his  lung,  but  I've  ar- 
ranged to  have  him  sent  to  Nashville,  where  he 
can  be  nursed  as  well  as  if  lie  were  at  home.  I 
recalled  that  the  Wests  live  there  now,  and  I  sent 
a  telegram  asking  if  they  would  not  take  Roy 
to  their  house  and  care  for  him  until  we  could 
send  him  home.  They  wired  that  they  would 
be  most  happy  to  do  so.  You  will  recall  that 
pretty  little  Emma  West  who  used  to  come  to 
the  house.  She  was  at  school  with  Roy  before 
he  went  to  college,     They  are  nice  people,  and 


308  ^l-V  rXOFFir'IAL   PATinoT. 

I  am  suix-  lliai  \U>y  w  ill  l)i'  carril  f<pr  as  if  lii' 
wiTL'  tlK'ii'  (iv.ii.  'J  ln'V  are  I'liidi  jicoplc. 
'J'liry  Avill  M'rih.'  to  you  daily,  loo,  so  that  cvery- 
lliiiiL;'  \\\]\  1)1'  niailr  as  cii^y  foi' you  as  possiljle. 
Tills  tal^cs  a  i;ii'at  load  off  my  licart,  and  as 
l{o\'  seems  so  l)ri;_;-lil  lo-day  I  am  almost  ;^'a\' 
after  yesterday's  terrible  experieiiee — (tf  wliieli 
I  shall  tell  \'ou  when  we  all  L;el  home,  Ijiit 
not  ]\()\\ .  One  of  []\c  most  ahsiird  things  I  ever 
lieard  of  \\as  that  the  very  lirsl  (jiieslioii  Koy 
tried  to  ask,  whe:i  he  hei'aine  eonseiotis,  AA'as 
who  got  the  ehalleiigo  la^i.  It  was  a-  side 
challenge  of  l)attle  l.)et\vceu  his  I'egiment  and  a 
Louisiana  regiment.  It  was  posted  on  a  tree — 
written  on  a  slab  of  Vvood.  I  had  tied  my 
horse  to  that  tree  \\hen  I  ^^"as  looking  for  Ko}', 
and  had  nttei'ly  forgotten  him.  Iioy"s  question 
reealled  the  poor  horse  to  me  and  I  went  to 
see  ^hat  had  become  of  him.  There  the  old 
fellow  stood,  pa\\'ing  the  ground  and  twisting 
about  the  ti'ee,  hungry  and  thirsty  and  tired. 
He  had  kiundced  the  ehallenge  down  and  split  it 
with  his  stamping  feet.  I  gathered  it  up  and  took 
it  to  Iioy,  and  a  real  lively  smile  crossed  his  hice, 
and  immediately  he  fell  asleep.     AYhat  strange 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  309 

freaks  of  fancy  and  of  desire  and  amlution  we 
are!  I  am  told  that  Roy  was  promoted  again 
on  the  field  just  before  he  was  shot,  so  he  is  as 
big  a  captain  now  as  I  am,  but  that  fact  has  not 
yet  a[)peared  to  come  back  to  him.  Who 
got  the  challenge  at  the  last  was  his  first 
thought  !  I  suspect  he  was  thinking  of  that 
when  he  fell,  and  his  returning  consciousness 
took  up  the  thread  of  thought  right  where  he 
had  drop[)ed  it  or  where  it  was  Ijroken  by  the 
lapse.  It  has  not  seemed  to  surprise  him  to  see 
me.  He  acts  as  if  I  had  been  about  him  all 
along,  and  j^et  it  has  been  nearlj-  two  years 
since  we  were  together  I  Of  course  I  act  the 
same  way  so  as  not  to  excite  him.  He  has  had 
two  long,  good,  natural  naps  to-day  and  I  talked 
to  him  between.  He  knows  he  is  to  go  to 
Nashville,  and  I  liad  a  sneaking  idea  that 
when  I  mentioned  Emma  West  he  looked  un- 
commonly well  pleased  with  the  scheme.  Do 
you  know  whether  they  got  '  spoonj-,'  after  I 
left  home  ?  Anyhow  that  Nashville  scheme 
seems  to  suit  him  all  the  way  through.  I  feel 
absolutely  light-hearted  and  ga}^  to-day,  mother 
mine.      It  is   the   reaction   from  the  strain  of 


310  ^1-V   rxoFFICIAL  PATIUOT. 

yt'stL'rday  and  last  iiiglit,  I  su[)|)(»se;  l)ut  if  I 
Cduld,  I'd  daiire  or  sing'  or  soinetliiiig.  Since  I 
can't  do  lliat  Til  content  myself  willi  writing  j'ou 
I'atlier  a.  frivolous  letter.  You  just  ought  to  see 
these  trees  !  Idieyare  simply  riddled  with  shot 
and  shell.  This  s1io\a's.  too.  one  very  good  I'eason 
wliy  so  few  of  the  roumls  of  ammunition  take 
effect  in  the  men.  The}"  shoot  entirely  too 
liigh.  ((Juiteahove  the  heads  of  the  tallest  men. 
Udie  trees  are  simply  eartridge  eases,  and  the  limUs 
are  torn  away.  I'he  nuid  I  You  ought  t()  see  it. 
You"d  think  you  never  saAV  nuid  before.  It 
took  sixteen  nudes  and  the  entire  regiment 
liitehedto  one  of  the  cannon  to  pull  it  along  tlie 
I'oad  the  Johniries  retreated  over.  A  man  we 
captiu'cd  was  (.)ne  ^\"ho  had  given  out  at  the  jol). 
l*oor  fellows  I  they  had  a  hartl  time  of  it  all 
around,  and  we  fresh  troo[)S  who  landed  from 
the  gunl)oats  were  the  last  straw  in  their  cup  of 
till )idat ion.  I  reckon  they  don't  think  they 
got  their  tribulation  through  a  straw  though, 
and  the  figure  is  a  trifle  mixed  ;  but  as  a  soldier  I 
can't  stop  t(j  edit  copy  I  Oh,  mother,  I  wish  I 
could  make  you  feel  as  relieved  as  I  do  to-day. 
Skittish   is   the   word — I   feel   really   skittish ; 


.LY  ry OFFICIAL  PATUIOT  311 

because  I  am  so  sure  Hoy  is  iu  no  danger.  I 
believe  he  will  be  able  to  go  liome  Ix-foi'e  many 
"weeks,  and  meantime,  for  all  comforts,  lie  will 
be  as  if  he  were  at  home.  When  he  comes  you 
can  get  the  whole  story  of  his  fall,  the  fight,  and 
his  promotion.  Dear  old  ft'UowI  lie's  a  great 
big  captain  now,  and  I  stick  right  there.  I'm 
acting  Inspector-General  now  on  the  staff,  but 
I'm  really  only  a  captain  yet.  I  liope  tilings 
will  settle  down  before  I  get  any  higher — 
though  I'd  feel  uncommonly  well  to  have  the 
same  kind  of  a  promotion  as  he  ^'ot  yesterday. 
I'm  going  to  let  liim  tell  you  himself.  It  was 
quite  dramatic,  as  the  fellows  tell  me.  I  just 
sto2:)ped  to  take  a  })eep  at  him  and  he  is  sleep- 
ing like  a  baby.  There  is  almost  no  fever.  I 
feel  like  hugging  this  pottery  clay  mud — for  we 
have  it  to  thank  for  a  good  deal — but  it  makes 
us  swear  to  march  through  it.  I  do  hope  father 
is  home  now.  He  is  my  main  anxiety.  I 
hope  he  won't  see  the  papers  if  anything  was 
said  of  Roy,  He  was  thought  to  be  '  missing,' 
at  first  when  the  reports  went,  and  then  to  be 
killed ;  but  don't  worry  a  single  bit.  I  am 
telling  you  the  verij  truth  wdien  I  tell  you  that 


VA-l 


A y  IWOFFK'I.  I  L  ]\  1  TlilOT. 


last  iiit^'lit  i  iR'lieviMl  that  liny  eoiiM  not  live 
and  t(»-iii'_;-ht  I  IcrX  alisitlutcly  safe  alidUt  liiiu — I 
feel  lil^c  sing-ill!^- — and  all  tliis  acrouiits  fur  this 
very  yidiU'  and  ji'i'kx'  Irtter.  T  suppose  I  am 
Avliat  voiiM  call  li\-steiacal.  ( )L'  coursL'  In- will  iiee(l 
intclligi'Ut  cai'i'.  l.)nt  since  that  is  all  arranged 
for  I  sliall  niari'li  a\\"a\-  to  ( 'orintli  (that  is  our 
next  aim")  witli  a  light  heart  and  as  Lop^dul 
as  I  \\'aid  to  make  \"ou  feci.  Ali.  mother  miiu', 
I  2'ealize  moi'c  and  more  A\hat  all  tliis  uuist  l)e  to 
you  I  I  thought  of  it  as  I  loolci'd  for  liov  last 
uighl.  Silt/nt.  patient.  iiiacli\'e  anxiety  !  The 
part  of  war  thi/  -wouhml  hear  is  hy  far  the  harder 
])art.  Jt  takes  hravery.  of  course,  to  faee 
huUets  and  death  :  hut  it  must  re(piire  almost 
inspired  hei'oism  to  sit  inacti^'ely  hy  and  wait 
for  it  to  stiike  those  we  h_)ve  far  hetter  than 
life.  More  an<l  moi'e,  small  mother,  do  T  realize 
this,  do  I  understand  tliat  the  hardest  part  of  war 
iinist  he  home  \^\  those  wlio  ai'e  not  vrarriors  ; 
hut  \\'e  love  you,  little  motlier,  ami  we  will  be  as 
careful  of  the  sons  you  care  for  and  love  as  we 
can  be  and  do  our  duty.  AVe  will  not  be  fool- 
hai'dy  nor  reckless,  fo]'  your  sake — he  sure. 

'*  One  of  the  pa.thetie   Uiings  that  is  not  uu- 


AX  rXOFFICIAL  PATIUOT.  818 

mingled  with  liunior  M'as  told  me  to-day  hj  the 
3'oung  fellow  in  tlie  next  hed  to  Roy.  He  is  a 
pretty  boy.  only  al)out  eighteen.  He  belongs  to 
an  Ohio  reo'iment.  During  the  first  day's  fight 
he  got  separated  from  his  command  and  did  not 
know  whether  he  was  inside  or  outside  of  our 
lines.  He  was  picking  his  way  around,  peering 
from  behind  trees  cautiously,  trying  to  get  his 
bearings,  when  all  of  sudden  he  came  upon  a 
Johnnie.  Both  were  taken  bj'  surprise.  The 
other  fellow  jumped  and  seemed  about  to  shoot, 
and  the  Ohio  hoy  yelled  out,  '  Don't  shoot ! 
don't  shoot  I     I'm  already  Avounded  I ' 

"  The  Johnnie  Avas  a  mere  slip  of  a  boy  himself, 
and  hadn't  the  faintest  desire  to  shoot.  They 
had  botli  seen  all  they  wanted  to  of  war.  Botli 
were  homesick  and  heartsick  with  it  all.  They 
sat  down  on  a  log  and  fell  to  comparing  notes. 
Neither  one  knew  wliether  lie  Avas  captured  or 
whether  he  had  a  prisoner.  Both  were  lost. 
Tliey  agreed  to  call  it  even  and  go  their  separate 
Avays  when  they  got  their  bearings.  Neither 
wanted  to  be  a  prisoner.  '  I'ye  got  a  dear  old 
father  back  in  Alabama,  and  if  I  ever  see  his 
face  again  I'll  have  enough  sense    to   stay  at 


;>i4  AX   l\\ OFFICIAL  I'ATIHOT. 

lidiHf;      e'Xpluiiied    Jdhiiiiii',    with    :i    sus[»irious 

<[U;i\cr  ill  llis   Vnicc.        (  )lli(>   li;!(l  till'   AHTV  (IciirL'st 

aiul  lii'st  of  I'allit-rs  loo.  and  \iv  coufr^siMl  that  it" 
he  coiihl  l)iit  se(/  his  face  now  lieaA-eii  wottlcl 
lie  his.  'rh('\'  shook  hands  over  the  situaliou 
and  liolh  I'rll  to  (  lyinj^'  softly,  as  thcv  d('cid(_''l 
that  war  \\'as  not  what  it  was  (/racked  up  to  l)e. 
The  two  homesick  fellows  sal  thci'c  on  that  hiy 
and  coni[iai'c(l  notes  ahout  those  hlesseil  fatlu'i's 
at  home,  and  l)olh  were  hluhljering — hecause 
thev  //'/'/,  instead  of  liecaiise  they  had  not, 
fathers  \\'ho  loved  them  and  whom  they  loved  I 
Well,  tlu.'  n[)dioi  wa-;  that  they  a^'reed  to  })art 
friends;  and  l;'o  hack  to  their  ree'iments  as  soon 
as  ever  thev  coald  had  out  wdiiidi  one  was  cap- 
tured. They'll  just  call  it  even  and  let  each 
other  off.  The  ( )hio  hoy  is  laid  up  now  with  a 
^liiue  in  his  arm  that  he  caug'ht  the  next  day, 
and  he  is  ^^•onderin^■  if  the  ^Mahama  lad  with 
the  father  sent  liim  that  hall  as  a  keepsake  and 
a  reminder  I  So  you  see  thei'e  are  some  Inimor- 
ous  sides  to  these  horroi-s  after  all,  motlier.  j\[y 
journalistic  instiu(.'t  has  ke[it  me  amused  with 
this  thing  a  good  deal  to-day.  Fd  have  given  a 
o-Qod  deal  to  have  overheard  the  talk.     I  sw^ear 


.l.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  315 

I  woukhrt  have  captured  Alal)ama.  He  should 
have  had  his  chance  to  go  back  to  the  dear  ohl 
home  and  tlie  father.  Ohio  was  trouljled  over  it, 
but  I  tohl  him  tliat  he  did  exactly  rig-lit.  But 
wasn't  it  delightfully  funny  ?  Oli.  mother  mine, 
I  wish  I  could  say  something  to  make  you  keep 
up  good  heart.  I  hope  father  is  home.  If  I 
could  be  sure  that  he  is,  Yd  feel  almost  gay,  to- 
day. Wool  little  ALirgaret's  cni'h'  pate  for  me 
and  tell  her  that  I  say  her  chirographical  efforts 
are  very  creditable  for  a  young  lady  of  her 
limited  experience.  Get  her  some  little  paper 
and  encourage  her  to  write  to  me  often.  It  will 
do  her  good,  and  it  will  be  a  delight  to  me. 
Her  last  letter  ^vas  as  quaint  and  demure  as  her 
little  self.  Love  to  aunt  Judy — the  faithful  old 
soul,  and  to  the  gentle  Ilosanna — in  the  highest 
— peace  and  good  will ;  not  to  "  mention  me  re- 
sphects.' 

"  Keep  up  a  bi-ave  heart,  mother.  It  can't 
last  much  longer;  and  trvd}-,  truly  I  believe  that 
Roy  is  quite  safe.  Kiss  3-ourself  for  your  eldest 
and  loving  sou, 

"  Beverly.'* 


316  Ay   rXO FFICT.  \L   PA  77? TO T. 


r'TIAPTElJ    XXTT. 

"  'J'liy  lii-iillicr's  lilduil  the  thirsty  earth  hath  (Iniiik." 

Shiikixjivurc. 

"When  (ififfith  ivporteil  at  llieWliitc  House, 
the  Pre-sidi'iil  fxpivssrd  liinise'lf  a^^  ciitiix'ly 
satislie'(l.  "You  liave  done  all  1  asked  ;"'  lie 
said.  ^  ddu'  iiia})s  sent,  so  far,  are  wonderfully 
line  and  aceuraU',  I  eau  see  that,  and  now  that 
you  have  left  a  nian  who  is  ;d»h.'  and  williiig"  to 
take'vouf  plaee,  lliat  is  all  T  ask.  If  he  should  hiil 
us  I  \\\\\  send  for  vou  a^-ain:  htit  I  \\o\)i'  I  shall 
]iot  need  to  do  that.  If  he  is  faitld'id.  you  have, 
iiuleed,  done  }dur  Avhole  duty,  iiohly.  I  thank 
yow  !  I  thaidc  you  !  Yon  are  a  silent  hero — a 
Avar  hero  in  times  of  peare  and  a  peace  hero  in 
times  of  war  I  I  aiu  glad  you  can  go  liome  now. 
I — T  hap])ened  to  read — T  always  notice  3'our 
name,  now  when  I  se*'  it  and "' 

Gril'tith  looked  at  him  steadily.     There  was 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  317 

evidently  something-  bearing  on  the  mind  of  the 
President  wliich  had  to  do  with  Griffith.  ]Mr. 
Lincohi  Avas  moving  toward  the  table.  "  Have 
you  read — I  suppose  you  have  not  seen  the 
papers  lately  ?" 

"  Nothino-,"'  Griffith  said,  shaking-  his  head. 
"  What  is  the  news,  Mr.  Lincoln  ?  " 

"  Glorious  news  !  A  great  victory  at  Sliiloh  I 
A  [/reat  victory  ;  but "' 

He  turned  over  several  papers  and  took  one 
up  from  among  the  rest. 

"  What  regiments  are  your  sons  in  ? "'  he 
asked,  looking-  down  the  columns. 

Griftith  put  out  his  hand.  '•  Wliat  is  the  name, 
Mr.  Lincoln  ?     Is  he  killed  or '' 

The  President  retained  the  })uper  and  feigned 
to  be  looking-  for  a  name.  ''  Xo,  no.  missing- 
according  to  one  account.  The  other — tlie  news 
is  too  meager  yet  to — it  is  confused.  We  can't 
be  sure,  and  then  this  paper  is  several  days 
old,  beside.  I've  seen  nothing  since — nothing 
at  all  of  him.  Here — Roy.  Captain  Roy 
Davenport  of ." 

"  Roy  is  not  a  captain.  That  is  his  brother — 
Beverly.     Is  Roy " 


318  Ay  rx OFFICIAL  pathiot. 


^  IIl'  was  |ii'(»]iiott'<l  oil  tile  liukl,  just  before 
lit'  fell — or This  paper '" 

Gril'lith  staggered  toward  the  door. 

'"I  must  go  home.  Just  l)ef<»re  lie  fell'. 
Poor  Katheriiie  !      Poor  lvo\- 1      I  must  go  home. 

I  must   make   haste.      Ih^w  long When  did 

you   sav  it   was?     When V  "' 

"Wait,"  said  ]\Ir.  Piiieolu.  "Let  me  try 
for  a  message — for  accurate  news  for  you. 
Wait."  lie  rang.  "Send  that  message,  in- 
stantly— to   Sliiloh — to   the  Colonel  of   the 

Indiana  Tnhintry,  and  liriug  me  the  reply.  Be 
Cj[uiek — ([uiek  as  you  can,"  he  said  ;  and  the 
secretary  hastened  away. 

Sileiiee  fell  between  them.  GrilTitirs  hand 
reached  out  toward  the  paper  ^Ir.  Lincoln  had 
let  fall,  but  the  long  angular  arm  reached  it 
lirst,  and  as  if  not  noticing  the  movement  of  ^Ir. 
Davenport,  he  deftly  slid  it  toward  the  pile  of 
other  papers,  and  then  suddenly  flung  all  into 
a  confused  heap  as  he  searched  for  some  article 
on  the  table. 

"  Would  you  like  to  go  honie  that  way  ?  " 
They  were  both  thinking  of  Shiloh,  so  why 
mention  the  name '?     "■  Perhaps  if  you  did,  you 


^.Y  UXOFFICIAL  PAriilOT.  319 

might    find — you    might  take  him  home    with 

3'ou  if Have    you    wired    his    motlier    that 

you   are    safe,  and    here    on  your   way   home  ? 

That  was  right.     That  will  ]iel[)  her  to  l)ear "' 

He  arose  restlessly  and  placed  both  hands 
upon  Griffitirs  shoulders.  "  ]Mr.  Davenport, 
I  can't  thank  you  enough  for  your  services. 
I  want  3"ou  to  understand  that  I  Iniow  what 
it  all  meant  to  you,  and  that  I  appreciate 
it  at  its  full  value.  I  hope  the  time  will 
come    when    you    will  let    a    grateful   country 

know    what  3-ou  have  done  and — and "    He 

held  out  his  hand  for  the  message  as  the  door 
had  opened  for  the  secretary.  He  read  and 
turned  the  other  side  up,  and  then  re-read  it. 
"  Who  is  Beverly  ?  Colonel,  of — Oh,  your  son  ? 
Oh,  this  is  for  you  I  I  did  not  notice  the  address. 
I  wondered  who  loved  me  !  '"  ]\Ir.  Lincoln  smiled 
as  he  handed  the  message  to  his  guest.  '•  Roy 
is  wounded,  but  doing  well.  Have  sent  him  to 
Nashville  to  the  Wests.  I  am  unhurt.  I  love 
you.  Beverly,"  Griffith  read.  Then  he  took 
out  his  handkerchief  and  blew  a  great  blast. 

"Was  there  ever  such  a  boy?     To  telegraph 
that!''  He  smiled  up  at  Mr.  Lincoln  through 


320  .i.v  iwoFFiriAL  I'Arnior. 

pi'ond  dim  t'ves.  '"  Tliat  is  inr  oldest  son — tlie 
Captain.""  Tin;  (piavcr  iuliis  voice  and  the  smile 
in  his  eyes,  drowned  as  it  was  in  ninistnre, 
tonelied  the  gi'eat  man  before  him,  ■wlinlook  the 
message  again  and  re-rea.d  it  as  (rriihlh  talked. 
"•  lie  is  a  good  son.     He "" 

''•  He  loves  yon  he  says,  and  the  other 
oi]e  is  doing  A\'(dl.  I'ln  onght  to  l)e  sat- 
isfied. .V  good  manv  fathers  are  not  iixed 
jnst  that  way,  to-day  I  "'  ^Ir.  Lincoln  shook 
]iis  head  sadly  from  si(h_^  to  side,  and  the 
tragic  face  sank  into  its  de[th  of  gloom  again. 
"■  Too  inanv  fathers  have  nosoirs  to  love  them  to- 
dd\ — too  manv,  too  manv.""  he  said  gloomilv. 
'•  When  will  il  all  end?  Il>fr  will  it  all  end?  "' 
He  held  ont  the  message  as  he  snddenly  turned 
to  the  table.  '•You  will  want  to  keep  that.  Do 
you  want  to  go  hv  way  of  Nashville,  now?  Or 
straight  h(^me  ?  *" 

GriiTith  re-read  the  message.  ''Straight 
home,""  he  said.  "He  is  in  good  hands — and — and 
lie  is  safe.  Straight  home."  Then  suddenly,  as  lie 
folded  the  telegram  and  placed  it  in  his  in- 
side pocket,  "  ]Mr.  Lincoln,  did  you  know  I 
am  a  deserter  ?  " 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  .Til 

-  What  ?" 

'•  Did  you  kno\v  I  deserted  ?  Tlie  General 
tlireatencd  to  shoot  me,  and " 

'^  W-h-a-t !  *' 

Griffith  told  the  story  of  tlie  threat  simpl}-, 
fully.  The  keen  eyes  watched  him  narrowly. 
There  Avas  a  growing-  lire  in  them. 

"•  Didn't  you  know  he  couldn't  shoot  you  ? 
Didn't  you  know  you  were  under  me  ?  Didn't 
you  know " 

'•  I  didn't  tliink  of  that  at  first,  ]\Ir.  Lincoln. 
I  thought  he  could,  and — I  tliought  he  Avould, 
for  a  little  while.     I  was "" 

"  If  he  had,"  said  the  President,  rising  and 
showing  more  fire  than  he  liad  exhibited  before, 
"well,  if  he  liad,  all  I've  got  to  sa}^  is  that 
there'd  a'  bee]i  two  of  you  shot ! "  Then, 
recalling  himself  he  smiled  grimly.  "  If  he 
does  his  share  as  well  as  you've  done  yours,  I'll 
be  satisfied." 

"  Before  I  go,  ]Mr.  Lincoln,  I  wanted  to  speak 
to  you  about  a  little  matter.  You  said  some- 
thing just  now  about  a  grateful  country,  and — 
but — I  recall  that  you — I  understood  you  to — 

The  fact  is,  when  I  was  here  before,  I  somehow 
21 


3-22  AX   ryOFFICIAL  I'ATh'IOT. 

g-()t  the  idea  tliat  you  avltc  A\'illiiig  tn — to  pay, 
and  to  L';i\H'  a.  ('oloiirTs  (•oiiiniission,  and — and 
enioluincnl.^ — to  one  \\lio  could  do  this  .sc'i'vic-e, 
and ■• 

^Ir.  Lincoln  ilrojipcd  the  liand  ]\c  lield.  and 
au  indescrilial)le  cliange  }iassed  over  the  tall 
f()]'in  and  the  hice.  which  made  ])oth  less  pleas- 
ant t(»  see.  r>nt  he  snuled.  as  he  passeil  his 
hand  over  his  face,  and  lurnini;'  toward  tlie 
tal)le  ^\■ith  a  tired  expi-ession,  reached  for  a 
})en. 

*'  You've  S(^rt  of  coucluded  that  the  job  is 
\\'ort]i  paw  ]ia\e  you  '/ '" 

''  Yes,  it's  wouli  all  you  can  afford  to  })ay, 
]\Ir.  Lincoln  :  it  is  extreniel}'  daugertjus  business. 
Ls  the  oll'er  still  open  ? '" 

The  I'resident  gave  an  imperceptil)lo  shrug  to 
liis  loose  shoulders,  and  drew  a  sheet  of  paper 
toward  him. 

'■  C'ertaiidy.  Conunission  ?  "  he  said  as  lie 
began  to  write. 

'■•\es,  ifyou  will.  .V  Colonel's  commission 
and  pay  dating  all  back  to  the  beginning  of  my 
service — if  that  is  right." 

j\lr.   I^incoln    nodded,    but    tliere    was   a    dis- 


AJV  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  323 


tinctly  cliilly  air  creeping  into  liis  tone.  "  Y-e-s. 
of  conr.se.     'Nytliing-  else  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  liardly  how  you  can  Jate  it  back 
either,  without " 

"  Oh  yes,  I  can  date  it  back  to  tlie  Ijegiuning 
of  your  service,"  he  said  wearily,  '•  but  I  don't 
know "' 

"•  I  guess  you'll  have  to  just  put  it  Col.  L. 
Patterson,  for  I  don't  know  his  real  name,  the 
baptismal  one.  Known  him  all  my  life  just  as 
Lengthy,  but  of  course  that  won't "' 

''What  I  "  the  President  had  turned  to  face 
him,  but  Griihth  was  still  looking  contempla- 
tively out  of  the  window,  and  did  not  notice 
the  sudden  change  of  tone  and  position. 

"  It  will  give  him  a  certain  standing  with 
the  men — and  with  the  General — that  he  will 
need — and  deserve,  and — and — and  tlie  rest  is 
right  too,  for  A/?h,  if " 

Mr.  Lincoln  thrust  his  fingers  back  and  forth 
through  his  already  disheveled  hair,  and  at  last 
burst  out :  ''  Can't  say  that  I  exactly  get 
your  idea.  I  understood  you  to  say  that  you 
had  changed  3'our  mind  about — about  wanting 
the  rank  of  Colonel,  and — and  the  pay  for " 


;1J4  ^i-V  uxorncfAL  patiuot. 

lie  ^\-as  looking'  full  at  firit'lilli,  and  tlic  preacli- 
er's  I'vcs  travi'li'd  liai-k  fnun  IIk/  distant  liills 
and  t'tdl  n|i()ii  tliu  lace  Ijid'orc  liim.  It  struck 
liiin  that  tliL'  t'aiM.'  loolccd  tire(l  and  ^^'()l•ll.  He 
pulled  liimstdf  u[t  sliarplv,  for  tlic  dull  M'av  lie 
had  been  presenting-  the  ease,  and  his  ri'plv  was 
in  a  fuller,  freer  ^■()iel■,  with  a  hi'isker  air  of  at- 
tention to  Liisiuess. 

*•  ( 'erlainlw  eei'taiidw  ^Ii'.  I/iueoln,  that's  it 
exaelly."  Then  with  a  lo\'\'ered  Vdiee  :  '•  Perhaps 
you  don't  realize,  Mr.  Lineoln,  that  every 
instant  a  man  in  that  situation,  \\'ho  is  known 
anil  rei-o!4'ni7.ed,  and  who  hohls  uo  eonnnission, 
and  wears  no  federal  uniform,  has  his  life  iu  his 
hands — is  in  more  danger  than  any  soldier  ever 
is,  and ■" 

••  Pvealize  :  Didn't  I  tell  you  so?  Didn't  I 
ask  you  to  go  Ijetter  protected  ?    Didn't  1 ■  ?  " 

(Jriilith  waved  his  hand  and  went  on. 

'■  I  somehow^  eotildn't  bring  myself  to  take 
the  attitude  and  position  of  a  soldier.  I  am  a 
man  of  peace,  a  non-cond)atant,  a  clerg^'man, 
and — and  then  there  was  some  sort  of  sentiment 
— of — ^Ir.  Lineoln,  it  isn't  necessary  to  try  to 
ex})lain  jui/  position.       The  fact   is,  I  doubt  if  I 


^l.V  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  325 

could,  if  I  tried,  make  3'ou  understand  wholly ; 
but  I  want  this  Government  to  protect  Lengthy 
Patterson  with  all  tlie  power  and  all  the  devices 
it  has.  And  I  want  him  to  have  a  commission 
that  will  place  him  where  he  will  receive  re- 
spect and  consideration  in  our  own  ranks  ;  and 
if  lie  is  captured.  I  want  money  paid  to  him  to 
live  on  afterward,  if  he  should  be  hurt — and 
he  can    never   live  in  his  old    home  acfain.     I 

want "'     He    had    risen    and   was  standing 

near  the  President  again.  His  voice  had  grown 
intense  in  its  inflection.  '^  Lengthy  Patterson 
has  taken  my  place,  and  I  Avant — and — if  you 
will  just  give  him  all  that — I  don't  see  how  you 
can  date  it  l)auk  either,  or  he  Avill  suspect  that 
I  am  i>aying  liim — and  he  wouldn't  take  a  cent ; 
but  if — -can't  you  just "' 

A  great  gleam  of  light  seemed  to  break  over 
the  rugged  face  of  the  President.  He  arose 
suddenly,  and  threw  one  arm  around  Griffitirs 
shoulders,  and  grasped  his  hand  again. 

"  God  bless  my  soul  I  Certainly !  Of 
course  I     Bj-  the  lord  Harry,  I  didn't  understand 

you  at  first,  I Why,  certainly,  the  man  who 

took  your  place  shall  have  both  the  commission 


.l.V  ry  OFFICIAL  PATH  lor. 


tluit  ^vill  shield  liiiii  and  tlic  \)\\\  he  deserves, 
eert;iinl_v,  ceitaiiilv !  ""  They  were  moving' 
toward  the  door.  "  .Vriylhing  else,  I\Ir.  Daven- 
port ?  " 

*■' T  reckon  yon  Avill  have  to  let  him  thiidc  that 
/  took — that  I  was  hdth  einnmissioned  and — and 
])aiil.  Mr.  Lincoln,  or  he  won't  take  it — and — and 
there  isn't  the  least  reason  why  Itc  shonhl  not. 
lie  nnixf.  Can  I  leave  it  all — will  yon  see 
that •?  " 

'•  Oh,  yes,  yes,  that's  all  right.     I'll  fix  that — 

I'm  glad  it's   that  May "     lie  hroke  off  and 

took  (irilfith's  hand.  "  Well,  g'oocfhve.  Good- 
hye.  I  hope,  A\hen  we  meet  again,  it  will  not  l)e 
— 1  hope  this  war  will  be  over,  and  that  I  shall 
have  no  more  need  t(^  test  men  like  yon.  But 
— ah,  yon  liave  a  son  who  loves  yon  and  the 
other  one  is  safe  I  I  Avish  to  heaven  all  loyal 
men  were  as  well  off  as  yon  are  to-night.  I  am 
glad  for  yon.  and  yet  I  sometimes  think  I  shall 
never  feel  really  glad  again,"  and  the  strong 
homely  face  sank  from  its  gently  (piizzieal  smile 
into  the  depths  of  a  mood  which  had  eome  to  l)e 
its  daily  cast.  He  stretched  ont  his  hand  for 
another    message,    and    stood    reading    it    as 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  327 


Griffith  closed  the  door  behind  him.  ''  Xew 
Orleans  is  ours,"  was  all  that  the  message  said, 
but  ^Ir.  Lincoln  sighed  with  relief  and  with 
pain.  Victory  was  sweet,  Ijut  carnage  tortured 
his  great  and  tender  soul.  The  sadly  tragic 
face  deepened  again  in  its  lines,  and  yet  he  said 
softly,  as  he  turned  to  his  desk  :  '•  Thank  God  I 
Thank  God  I  one  more  nail  is  driven  into  the 
coffin  of  the  Confederacy.  Let  us  hope  that 
rebellion  is  nearly  ready  to  lie  down  in  it  and 
keep  still.  Then  perha^is  we  can  be  glad  again 
— perhaps  we  can  forget!  " 


328  .l.V  rXOFFTCTAL   P ATT! TOT. 


rUAPTElJ   XXI  [T. 

"  Tliron^li   tlii^  sliailnws  of  tlic  glnlu-  wr   <wci>p   into  the 
yuiiiigiT  (hi}.""  \itii[/snn. 

"  "WiiKX  tlio  war  is  over  and  the  Ixivs  all  get 
home."  ( ii-iflith  was  fond  of  saving,  asliu  sat  and 
talked  with  Kailierinc,  ••lio\v  good  it  ^\'ill  seem 
just  to  live  !  Tve  seen  all  the  suffering  and 
.shadows  of  trageily  I  want  to  see  for  my  \\'hole 
life.  The  hovs  and  I  A\"ill  make  it  n[)  to  you, 
Kathei'inc.  and  thcsi-  grav  hairs  that  have  come,"' 
lie  tiiuehed  the  wa^"v  hair  with  tender  lingers, 
''these  grav  haii's  that  have  cuine  since  we  went 
awav,  shall  he  onlv  memoranda  of  the  past,  not 
heralds  of  the  future." 

It  wassueh  inlinite  relief  to  luiA'e  him  at  home 
and  well  that  Ivatherine  almost  forgot  for  a  time 
to  feel  trouhled  al)ottt  her  sons.  X^ews  had  eome 
dailv  from  the  ilrst  ahout  lioy  :  hut  now  tliat 
he  was  so  much  im|troA'ed  the  haters  gradually 
grew   a  little  less  fie([Lient.     Sometimes  Emma 


A^'   UXOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  829 

West  wrote  tliem,  and  then  tlie  letters  Avere  very 
minute  indeed,  and  full  of  anxious  hopefulness. 
Her  praise  of  Roy's  fortitude,  her  descriptions 
of  liis  wonderful  courage  land  the  insistence  with 
which  she  assured  Katherine  that  no  duty  of  all 
their  lives — her  father's  and  mother's — had  ever 
been  done  witli  half  so  hearty  a  good-will  as  was 
tlie  nursing  of  the  young  Captain,  had  in  it  all 
a  spirit  of  devotion  and  a  guarded  tenderness 
that  Katherine  thought  slie  understood.  Al- 
though it  is  true  that  no  girl  is  ever  quite  good 
enough  to  marry  any  mother's  son,  Katherine 
tried  to  adjust  herself  with  reasonable  fortitude 
to  the  idea  of  what  she  thought  slie  saw  in  the 
future.  Of  course  it  would  he,  manj^  years  in. 
the  future  before  the  linality  must  be  faced,  and 
Katherine  was  learning  to  live  in  the  present 
and  to  push  aside  that  which  threatened  or  even 
promised,  as  too  uncertain  to  dwell  upon.  At 
last  short  notes,  and  then  longer  ones,  from  Roy 
himself  began  to  come,  and  the  time  seemed  not 
far  off  when  the  invalid  Avould  arrive.  It 
Avas  wholly  unlikely,  he  said,  that  he  wouM 
be  fit  for  service  again  during  the  war,  unless  the 
war  should  last  much  longer  than  his  original 


;]:jO  AX   JWOFFICJAL   I'MIllol'. 

tei'in  of  enlistment  and  lie  slionlil  enlist  again. 
()t"  liis  linal  i-ec(i\'ci-\-  lie  t'clt  certain.  The 
ern>]i('il  side  \\'as  duin^-  well,  and  lie  Vv'or.ld  l)c 
only  sliLj'lillv  lanic  tlie  d<;el(ir  said.  To  L;'et  liini 
out  ot  llie  aney  liy  even  so  liei-oic  a  proeess  i^-avc 
Ids  niotlier  eonifoit,  and  .^lie  I'ell  that  she  eonld 
keep  hini  out  )/owe\'en  should  h(_'  ree()Ver  hefore 
his  enlistment  |ieri(Ml  A\fre  o\'ei'.  she  A\'orild,  if 
need  he,  appead  to  l\Ir.  Lincoln,  and  she  felt  sure, 
from  alHu'il'lith  had  told  her.  that  ihe  President 
would  gi\'e  Ivoy  an  hiindiahle  dixdiai'L^'e.  Two 
of  herlirood  M'ei'e  safe  a^'ain.  she  aryaied  A\dth 
herself,  ami  meantime  news  fi'itm  IIo\vai<l  and 
Beverly  was  frequent  and  assuring.  JJfe  seemed 
about  to  droll  into  less  trapde  lines  in  the  little 
household.  Griffith  fell  to  hnmmiughis  faA-orite 
hymns  once  more,  and  sometimes  as  he  sat  on 
the  por(di  and  watched  or  ^'reeled  the  passers-l)y 
or  read  his  paper,  he  would  stop  to  tell  Katherine 
stories  of  his  recent  adventures,  where  they 
did  not  trench  too  closely  Uj)iui  the  sorrowful 
memories  of  the  cold  faces  and  l)itter  feelings  of 
his  one-time  friends.  To  uo  one  else  did  he 
speak  of  where  he  had  been.  His  townsmen 
knew  that  he   had  been  away,  of  course.     The 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  331 

Bishop  and  the  college  trustees  alone  knew 
M'hy.  To  all  others  his  few  months'  al)sence 
was  no  more  signitieant  than  many  another  trip 
he  had  taken  since  he  came  among  them.  The 
duty  he  had  felt  forced  to  do  had  been  too  pain- 
ful in  its  nature  to  make  him  willing  to  discuss 
it  even  after  it  was  over.  i\lost  of  those  about 
him  were  bitter  toward  the  South  with  a  bitter- 
ness born  of  ignorance  of  conditions  and  of  the 
times  of  excitement.  To  this  man,  who  had 
jDassed  through  the  lire  before  the  general  con- 
flagration was  kindled,  there  was  wo  bitterness. 
He  understood.  His  sympathy  was  still  with 
those  who  were  cauglit  on  the  under  side  of  the 
wheel  of  progress  as  it  had  revolved.  His  be- 
liefs and  convictions  had  long  ago  traveled  with 
the  advance  line  ;  l)ut  he  left  all  sense  of  un- 
kindness  and  revenge  to  those  who  Avere  less 
competent  to  see  the  conflict  from  tlie  side  of 
understanding,  and  who  judged  it  through  the 
abundance  of  their  ignorance  and  prejudice.  To 
Griffith  it  was  like  Avatching  the  tide  rise  on  the 
sea.  It  was  unavoidable,  and  those  who  were 
caught  out  beyond  the  safety  line  Avere  bound 
to  go  down.     He  did  not  blame  the  sea.     He 


.LY   rXOFFTCIAL  PATRIOT. 


only  deplored  tlic  iiir\'il;il.)le  l(_»ss,  the  .sorrow, 
the  snl'feriug,  and  the  mistakes  Avhich  made  it  all 
possible.  Tliat  liis  own  part  of  it  was  in  and  of 
the  past  lightened  his  heart.  One  day  as  lie  sat 
listlessly  on  the  side-  poi'ch  reading  his  Ciazette, 
he  iiotieed  vagnely  tlie  lialf-witted  g'irl,  now 
almost  grown  to  Avonianliood,  eireling  about  the 
gate  and  making  aimless  passes  toward  tlie  end 
of  the  liouse.  lie  M'alehed  hereoverlly  over  his 
papei'  tor  a  moment  and  went  on  luunming. '■  lie 
leadelh  me,  oli,  lilcsse(l  thought  !  '"  The  mr)ve- 
ments  of  the  demented  iM'eature  seemed  to  take 
on  more  delinileness.  ( Jritlith  ai'ose  ;ind  stepped 
to  the  end  of  the  }Htrch.  Tiiei'e  sat  aunt  Judy, 
smoking  her  pipe,  and  swaying  her  Ixidy  iji  time 
with  his  hununing,  "  ( )  Avords  with  heavenly 
comfort  fraught  I  "Where'er  I  go,  whate'er  I 
he,'' — CTi-il'titirs  step  had  attraeted  the  old 
"woman  and  she  (tpeiied  lier  eves  and  looked  up 
at  liim.  ''  Still  'tis  His  liand  that  leadeth  me,"' 
Gi'illith  linisheih  smiling  at  her. 

'•'  Lawd  amassy.  honey,  I  des  Ijeen  a  settiiTlieah 
AA'id  my  po'  ole  eyesshet,  alistenin*  to  dat  dar  song 
eryoahrn  I  Hit  sholy  do  seem  des  lack  ole  times 
come  hack  agin  t"  heah  yoh  sing  Jat  a  way  !    Hit 


.4.Y  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT. 


shol}-  do  I  I^awsy,  lioncy,  cley  want  no  shigiir 
'roun"  liuali  wliilse  vou  \\iis  gone  all  dat  l()n^■  time. 
Dey  want  dat  !  Hit  a\-us  tL-s  dat  glo(.)niys()ine 
dat  liit  seeui  lack  someljody  daid  all  de  time. 
Hit  slioly  do  go  good  t'  set  lieali  an"  listen  ter 
j-qIi  singin'  agin  !  Hit  slioly  do,  Mos'  Giif.'' 
She  suddenly  looked  toward  tlie  street.  ''Mos' 
Grif,  what  dat  dare  fool  gal  doin"  ?  She  des  do 
like  dat  a  way  all  de  time.  I  hain't  nehherseed 
her  when  she  don't  do  des  dat  er  waj-.  I  ax  her 
wat  she  want,  an  I  ax  er  wat  ails  'er,.  an'  she 
don't  say  iiolhin'  'tall.  She  des  keep  on  doin' 
dat  way." 

"  She's  afflicted,  aunt  Judy.  She's  a  poor 
afflicted  creature  and " 

'•  Lawsy,  honey,  rt//^l)ody  kin  see  dat  she's 
'flicted  ;  1  )ut  wat  I  axes  yoh  is,  what  fer  she  do  dat 
away  at  me  ?  She  ain'  do  dat  a  way  at  yoh,  an' 
die  ain'  do  dat  a  way  at  ^lis'  Kate — -an'  she  ain' 
do  dat  a  way  at  ^Nlis'  ]\Iarg'et,  needer.  Des  at 
me.     She  tryin'  ter  witch    me.     Dat's  Avhat  I " 

Grifiith  laughed.  The  point  of  view  was  so 
unexpected  and  yet  so  wholly  characteristic  that 
it  struck  him  as  humorous  beyond  the  average 
of    aunt    Judy's    mental  processes.      His  Laugli 


:j;]4  A\  rxoFFiriAL  patiitot. 

raii!^'  out  loud  and  clcai'.  His  Inroad  shoulders 
sliook.  llf  had  urowii  (juile  portlv,  and  Ills  face 
was  the  }»icturc  of  hcallh  and  luu'  A'iij-oi'. 

"  What  ftT  yoh  laun'h  dat  a  \\'ay.  Mos'  Orif? 
Dat  dar  fool  g'al  \\'ould  a  wUcIkmI  me  long'  time 
aL;'o  if  hit  haduH  a  lieeu  fei'  dal."'  She  took  from 
lier  l)osom,  whei'e  it  huug'  from  a  string',  the  rab- 
l)it  h»()t:  ''  I)at"s  so.  Des  as  sho*  as  vo*  l)a\vn, 
liouev  ;   (lev  aiu*  no  two  Mays  "hout  dat  I 

The  fascination  of  the  strange  hlaek  hiee  for 
this  eloiide<l  intidleet  seemed  never  to  lose 
its  |iower.  AVlienever  a.nd  wherever  Judy  Iiad 
crossed  her  [latli  all  else  faded  from  the  half 
vacant  l)rain,  and  such  mind  and  attention  as 
tliere  was,  ilxed  itself  upon  the  old  colored 
woman.  Judy  had  tried  every  art  she  possessed 
to  engage  the  g'irl  in  convei'sation,  bat  with  no 
results.  She  wouhl  continue  to  circle  aljout 
and  make  her  passes  of  indii'ection  ^\dt]^  one  hand 
outstretched  and  the  other  hung  aindessly  pen- 
dent at  her  side  in  that  hel})less  fashion  M-]iicli  de- 
lies  simulation.  Judy  had  even  tried  threaten- 
ing- the  girl  witli  lier  cane  :  but  no  tlu'cat,  no 
coaxing'  and  no  cajolery  served  to  free  lier  from 
this  admirer  who  seemed  transiixed  as  a  bird  is  fas- 


.l.V  rx OFFICIAL  PATEIOT.  335 

cinatud  by  a  snake — with  the  fascination  of  per- 
plexity and  fear — in  so  far  as  the  vacant  soul 
could  know  such  lively  and  definite  sensations. 
Judy  had  finally — long  ago — taken  refuge  in  her 
rabbit  foot,  and  made  up  her  mind  that  in  compe- 
tition in  the  black  art,  only,  was  safety.  She 
shook  the  foot  at  the  girl,  who  responded  in  tlie 
usual  fashion.  How  loner  the  contest  mio-ht 
have  lasted  it  would  be  difficult  to  say,  had 
not  Griffith  walked  toward  the  gate.  The 
instant  the  bulk  of  his  body  hid  the  old 
black  woman  from  her  eyes,  nature  did  the 
rest.  The  vacant  mind,  no  longer  stimulated 
by  the  sight  of  the  uncanny  face,  lost  all  interest 
and  continuity  of  thought  and  w^andered  aim- 
lessly on  ;  forgetful  alike  of  her  recent  object  of 
attention  and  equally  unguided  by  future  in- 
tent, her  steps  followed  each  other  as  a  succes- 
sion of  i^hysical  movements  only,  and  had  no  ob- 
ject and  no  destination.  Aimlesslj',  listlessly, 
walking  ;  going  no  one  knew  where ;  thinking 
no  one  knew  what — if,  indeed,  her  poor  vague 
mental  operations  might  be  classified  as  thought 
— living,  no  one  kncAV  why  ;  following  the  path 
of  least  resistance,  as  how  many  of  her  betters 


•jyO  AX  rXOFFTCTAL  PATnior. 

liave  cloiie  and  nill  do  to  tlie  riid  of  tiiue  :  Irxjk- 
iiiH'  no  I'aillier  tliaii  llie  seo[t(.'  of  }>reseiit  vision  ; 
I'cniL'inlit'i-iiiL;' nolliiiii;-  :  Icaniinn"  nolliiiiL;' ;  an  olj- 
ji'cl  of  pity,  of  persi'i-ution,  (»f  fear  or  of  avi'rsion 
arcordinL;' as  sIk'  crossed  tlie  [latli  of  rivilizcMJ  or 
sa\aL;\',  of  inU'lliu'ent  and  [litiful  or  of  pitiless 
ignorance,  (ii-irfilli  walrlaMJ  lu-r  as  she  wove 
lier  devious  wwy  and  M'ondered  ^vllere,  in  tlio 
eeoiK.Jiny  <>f  Nature,  suelias  she  eould  lind  a  use- 
ful [ilace.  and  ^^■h\^  in  the  })rovidenee  of  fiod,  she 
had  been  east  adrift  to  eund)er  the  earth,  to  suf- 
fer, to  endure  and  at  last  to  die — where  and  why 
and  how?  He  was  not  lauyhinq  as  he  returned 
to  the  house,  and  aunt  Judy  scanned  his  face 
narro\'\  ly,  and  then  carefully  re[)laced  the  rabbit 
foot  in  its  resting-place  in  her  bosom. 

'•  Druv'  er  off.  She  kno\\-  I  jS//e  know  a 
jn'eacher  o'  de  gospil  o'  de  Lawd  Jesus  Chris' 
w'en  she  see  'uni  I  Dey  ain't  luj  two  ways  'bout 
dat — 'dieted  or  no  'tlicted.  Dat  dar  gal's 
'llicted  o'  course,  but  she  know  "nuf  ter  know 
d(ff  !  She  been  tryin  ter  witch  nie,  (J<At  she  is  ;  l)ut 
Lawd  (lod  A'niighty,  she  hain't  got  no  sense,  ter 
try  ter  witch  '7/-s  house  wid  ^NIos'  Grif  an'  dat 
ral)bit  foot  hofe  in  hit  !     Dat  dar  gal's  a  plum 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATHIOT.  337 

Ijawn  fool  ter  try  dat  kine  er  tricks.  Slie  is  dat. 
She's  wus  dan  'tiicted.  She's  a  plum  Imwii 
ejiot  ter  try  dat  kine  er  tricks  aroun*  dese  lieah 
dig-gins.  She  is  dat !  Laws}-,  Lawsy,  she  ain' 
got  no  sense  worf  talkin'  "bout  I  Mos"  Grif  an' 
dat  rahljit  foot  bofe  t'  match  up  wid  !  Lawsy, 
Lawsy,  dat  dar  pore  'fiicted  gal's  a  plum  bawn 
fool  !  "  And  poor  old  aunt  Jud}-,  still  talking 
to  herself,  hobbled  into  the  house,  satisfied  with 
her  estimate  of  all  })arties  concerned  and  content 
A^■ith  the  world  as  she  found  it,  so  long  as  that 
v.'orld  contained  for  her  both  a  Mos'  Grif  and 
her  precious  rabbit  foot. 

White  or  black,  bond  or  free,  war  or  peace, 
were  all  one  to  old  aunt  Judy  ;  nothing  mat- 
tered in  all  this  infinite  puzzle  called  life,  if  but 
there  remained  to  her  these  two  strongholds 
of  her  faith  and  her  dependence  !  And  who 
shall  say  that  aunt  Judy  was  not  wise  in  her 
day  and  generation  ?  So  wise  was  she  that 
sorrow,  anxiety,  and  care  had  passed  her  lightly 
by  to  the  end  that  her  eighty  years  sat  upon  lier 
shoulders  like  a  pleasant  mantle,  adjusted,  com- 
fortable to  a  summer  breezy, 
22 


33!^  .t-V  ryoFFTrjAL  PATnwT. 


CTTAPTER  XXIV. 

"  And  what  arc  words  ?    IIo^y  little  these  the  silence  of  the 
soul  oppress  ! 

Mere  froth, — tlie  foam  and  llower  of  seas  whose  hungering 
waters  hi'ave  and  jiross 

Against  ilie  planets  and  the  sides  of  night, — mnte,  yearn- 
ing, mystic  tides  I'' 

Biihi-er, 

"  I  a:m  coming-  liome  next  montli,"  wrote 
Roy,  '^  Avith  my  wife — the  very  dearest,  sweetest, 
most  loA'uble  ami  beaiilifiil  girl  in  the  whole 
world.  We  have  decided  not  to  wait,  but  to  be 
married  at  once — as  soon  as  she  can  get  ready, 
and  I  a  bit  stronger — and  go  home  for  our  l^ridal 
trip.  The  winter  at  home  with  you  will  linish 
up  my  recovery  (and  if  anything  on  earth  could 
facilitate  it,  Emma's  nursing  and  care  and  love 
will,)  and  then  if  the  war  is  not  over,  of  course  I'll 
go  back  if  I  am  needed — enlist  again.  Mj"  time 
is  out  now ;  but  I  hope  and  believe  that  the  war 
will  be  over,  or,  at  least,  on  its  last  legs  by  that 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  389 


time,  and  lUuii  I  can  begin  business  at  once. 
M}'  own  idea  is  to  take  the  stock-farm,  if 
father  is  willing,  instead  of  leaving  it  to  those 
Martins  Avho  don't  know  the  first  thing  about 
stock-l)reeding,  and  go  in  for  fine  hoi'ses  and  a 
few  fine  cows,  too.  I  got  hold  of  some  books  on 
those  subjects  here.  Emma's  father  used  to 
have  a  fancy  that  way,  and  I've  read  up 
and  talked  a  lot  with  him  on  the  subject  in 
these  four  months.  Don't  you  tliiidv  we  could 
fix  the  house  out  there  on  the  place  so  it  would 
do  very  well,  indeed,  for  a  couple  of  young 
folks  who  won't  care  so  very  much  about  any- 
thing at  all  but  each  other  ?  " 

Griffith  stopped  reading  the  letter  to  laugh. 

"  Tut,  tut,  tut !  Here's  more  love  in  a  cottage 
business  for  you.  Well,  well,  I  am  surprised, 
Katherine  !     I  am " 

"  I  am  not.  I've  been  expecting  it  all 
along — only — I  did  hope — I  didn't  think  it 
would  be  quite  so  soon.     Roy  is  only  twen '' 

"  Well,  well,  'pon  my  soul,  it  looks  as  if  you 
didn't  get  out  of  one  kind  of  a  frying-pan  in 
this  w^orld  until  you  got  into  another.  I  was 
just  building  all  ^orts  of  castles  about  the  iuture 


C40  AX  rxoFFiciAL  rMino'i: 

and — ami  Id  tril  tlie  mortal  tnUli,  KatluTiue, 
I    lR'^■L■l■   (iiicc    lliouL^lil    of  making.'  a  [)lace    for 

a    (lauL;liU'r-iii-la\\' !     Xcvlt    oiiff  !     \\\\\- "' 

l'li(.'rLM\"as  a  l<ui'.^' paii>-e.  (irifliih  liiiisluMl  the 
letter  ill  sil('ii(M_'  a.iid  liaiidrd  it  lo  liis  wife.  .Vs 
slic  read — die  lieyaii  ])ai-k  at  the  lieginiiiiiy — he 
gazed  straight  hefore  him  \\  ilh  iiiiseeing  ej'es 
and  a  l(i\v  hum  ran  along  Aviih  nnsteadyand 
broken  measure.  •"  How  tedious — mmmm — 
mm — the  hours,  ]\Iminnim — no  longer  mmm 
mm  :  K'weet  pros — mmm,  swi-e — et  mmm  mm 
mm,  mmmm,  11a — a\e  all  mmmm  mm  mm  to 
me."  lUit  wedl  have  to  expand  the  eastle, 
ivatherine--huild  on  an  adilition  for  a  daugli- 
terdndaw."'  he  said  as  if  there  had  hei-n  no  l)reak 
in  the  eoiiversatioii,  albeit  almost  half  an  hour 
had  passed  duiingwhieh  eaeh  had  beeuwrap[)ed 
in  thought,  and  the  singing — if  {Tril'lilh's  natural 
state  of  voealizatioii  may  be  ealled  l)y  that 
name — was  wdiolly  miiiotieed  by  l)oth. 

'•  Yes,""  said  Katherine  in  a  tired  voiee  ;  ''  yes, 
but  I  had  hoped  for  a  reunion  of — of  just 
ourselves  llrst  :  f)Ut — but — \^"e  w  ill  try  to  feel  that 
she  h  one  of  ourselves — and-surely  ^\"e  ought  to 
be   verv  ij'rateful  for  the  ^vav  thev  have  nursed 


AX  UyOFFICIAL  PATRIOT.  341 

Hoy    and — His  letter "     Katlieiine    fell    to 

discussing  Lis  letter  and  the  new  plans  and 
needs,  and  Low  sLort  a  time  it  would  Ije  until 
tLey  would  come. 

Little  Margaret  Lailed  witL  deliglit  tlic  idea  of 
a  new  sister.  TLey  all  remembered  tlie  pretty 
face  of  tlie  scLool-girl  Emma.  Letters  of  con- 
gratulation and  welcome  were  written  and 
posted,  and  it  seemed  to  KatLerine  tLat  notliing 
in  tlie  wLole  world  could  ever  eitber  surprise  or 
startle  lier  any  more.  Slie  felt  sure  tbat  wliat- 
ever  sLould  come  to  lier  in  tLe  future  would 
find  Ler  read}'.  SLe  would  take  tlie  outstretclied 
Land  of  any  new  experience  and  say,  "  I  was 
expecting  you."  Her  powers  seemed  to  Ler  to 
Lave  taken  up  tlieir  position  upon  a  level  sur- 
face and  to  Lave  lost  all  ability  to  rise  or  fall. 
TLe  fires  Lad  burned  too  close  to  bave  left  ma- 
terial to  ever  flare  up  again.  Tbere  was  notbing 
left,  sLe  tLougLt,  to  kindle  a  sudden  or  brilliant 
blaze.  Sbe  Lad  accepted  tlie  tLougLt  of  a  new 
daugLter  witli  a  placidity  wliicL  sLocked  Ler- 
self,  wLen  sLe  tLougLt  of  it,  until  sLe  analyzed 
Ler  sensations  or  Ler  lack  of  tliem. 

TLe  montb  passed.     When  tbe  bappy  young 


342  AX  rxoFricTAL  PATinor. 

creatui'es  came,  the  very  l)eaut_v  uf  tlieir  faces 
and  forms  al)out  the  Iiousl-  gave  warmth  and 
coldi'.  Uiiy  A\"as  still  limping'  a  little  and  his 
lung  nee(k'(l  care,  hut  he  M'as  as  handsome  as  a 
young  IVllow  couhl  he,  and  as  proud  and  l)right 
in  his  new  happiness  as  if  the  earth  ^\•ere  his. 
'•  Is  she  not  heautifnl  ? ""  he  AA'ould  ask  twenty 
times  a  day,  holding  the  laughing  young  wife  at 
arm's  length.  -  Js-ti't  she  heautiful,  father?" 
and  (iriflilh  wouhl  pi'eleiid  to  Uuii  eritieal  eves 
upon  her  and  tease  the  son  A\ith  an  assumption 
that  it  was  ueeessary  to  look  for  a  Ijeauty  whieh 
was  holli  rare  and  graciously,  hiilliantlv  en- 
do\^■ed. 

'' Well,  let  me  see  I  L-e-t — me  s-e-e  !  Turn 
around,  daughtei' — Xo,  Jiot  so  far — M-mm. 
Well — it — seems — to — me — she  is  r-a-tdi-e-r 
fair  !"' and  Griffith's  cvqs  Avould  twinkle  with 
}ileasure  ^hen  Emma  tweaked  his  ears  or  dro\\-ned 
his  pretense  in  a  dash  of  music.  The  old  piano 
gave  })lace  to  a  new  one,  and  the  home  was  once 
more  tilled  with  langliter  and  music  and  a  liap- 
piness  that  not  even  the  shadow  cast  l)y  the 
thought  of  the  two  absent  ones  could  make 
dark  enough  to  veil  the  spirits  of  the  two  who 


AN  rXOFFlCIAL  PATniOT.  343 

had  come.  Willi  the  others  it  had  also  its  in- 
fection. So  true  is  it  that  after  long  and  ter- 
rible strains  \ve  hail  partial  relief  with  such  peans 
of  joj  that  the  shadows  that  remain  seem  only 
to  temper  the  light  that  has  hurst  upon  our 
long  darkened  vision  and  to  render  us  only  the 
better  aljle  to  Ijear  the  relief.  Griffith  sang  the 
old  hynnis  daily  now,  and  even  essayed  to  add 
his  uncertain  voice  to  the  gay  music  that  Emma 
and  Rov  flunof  forth. 


"  And  tlip  niuhts  sliall  be  filled  with  music, 
And  the  thoughts  that  infest  the  day, 
Shall  fold  their  tents,  like  the  Arabs, 
And  as  silently  steal  away." 


Emma's  voice  rang  out  clear  and  sweet,  and 
it  seemed  to  Katherine  that,  after  all,  it  was 
very  delightful  to  have  a  new  daughter  like 
this  one,  and  if  Roy  must  marry,  why 

Good  news  continued  to  come  from  the 
front.  Howard  and  Beverly  were  well  and  un- 
hurt. In  their  different  ways  they  wrote  cheer- 
ful and  cheering  letters.  Emma  grew  more 
radiant  ever}-  day  as  she  watched  the  returning 
color  come  to  Roj-'s  cheeks,  and  one  day  Griiiith 


:U4  .1-V  rXOFFICTAL  PATJilOT. 

loolc  liLT  by  Ixuli  ai'ins  as  slie  was  llasliiiin'  past 
liiiii.      lie  ]i('l(l  \\vv  al  anil's  L'1il;i1i  ami  laiiglied. 

'•  TitIiil;'  1<_)  sre  if  I'm  pi-ctty.  fallicr?"  she 
said  saiU'ily.  lifliii;_;'  luT  iiuiiitli  fur  a  kiss. 

*•  Pjvtl y  I  pivlty!  W'\\\.  (lau-lilrr  of  IJahy- 
loii,   till'    lilies    of    llic     lifld    arc     ]iol     half    so 

Lively — and  Solomon,  in  all  his  l;1oi'\' ""      IIl* 

stc[i})e<l  hack  and  ioldiMJ  his  aims.  Jhmna 
llnng  hoih  little  hands  up  lo  his  checks  in  i^dce. 
*■'■  Kiss  nic  !  oh.  \i>ii  dear  old  father!  Solomon 
in  all  his  ;^1oit  nc\"cr  knew  you — didn't  have 
you  foi-  a  father — and  so  that  is  wliere  I  have 
got  the  hcst  of  Solomon  I  Poor  old  Solomon,  I 
A\'ouldii"t  traile  with  him  !  ""  She  ran  lanyhing- 
down  the  hall,  and  Kalhcrine  smiled  up  at  her 
hushand. 

'•What  a  dear  girl  she  is  I  I  am  so  glad  for 
liov — for  all  of  us  :  ""  she  sai(h  ''It  is  easy  and 
a  pleasure  to  huild  on  an  addition  to  our  air- 
castles  for  her." 

(iritlith  hent  over  to  kiss  her.  "Yes,  God 
has  been  verv  good  to  us  all  the  <kiys  of  our 
lives,  Katheiine.  The  struggles  have  all  heeii 
outside  of  the  uiost  sacred — of — • — ""  lie  hesi- 
tated as  he  recalled  some  of  the  struggles,  and 


'  AN    UNOFFICIAL  PATEIOT.  345 

touched  his  lips  to  lier  hair  wIiltc  tlie  gray 
was  growing  distinct.  ''But  all  those  seem  to 
be  about  over,  now,  and  for  us  the  dawn  is  here 
and  the  l)rilliant  day  is  (_)idv  jnst  ahead.  Ah, 
little  wife,  the  sini  will  rise  for  us  tomorrow  on 
a  day  \\  hich  shall  have  no  conflict  of  soul  be- 
fore us.  How  haj)|)y  we  shall  l)e  when  the 
other  boys  get  home  I  It  makes  me  feel  'S'oung 
again  only  to  ihiidc  of  it  !  I  am  going  over  to 
the  College  now.  A  business  meeting  of  the 
trustees.''  lie  smiled  back  at  her  and  went 
hunnning  down  the  lawn  :  ''  Joy  to  the  \\'urld, 
the  Lord  is  come  !  *" 

Two  hours  later  in  the  twilight,  there  was  a 
confused  scuffle  of  feet  and  liabble  of  muffled 
voices  on  the  front  porch.  Katherine,  ever  on 
the  alert  for  news  from  her  absent  sons,  opened 
the  door.  A  dark,  repellent  face — the  face  of  an 
ascetic,  cast  in  the  mold  of  sorrow  aiul  soured 
by  the  action  of  time,  was  before  her.  She  rec- 
ognized the  pastor  of  the  church  near  b}'. 
"Sister  Davenport,"  he  said,  "■you  had  better 

step  back.     We  have  sad  news.     We lie 

is  dead." 

"  Which    one  ?     Which    one  ?  '"  cried   Kathe- 


340 


AN   IWOFFK'IAL  PATIHor. 


I'iiic,  ''Howard  or  I'x.'vi'i-ly  ?  ""  She  was  stniL,'- 
oThil;'  to  ])U>][  liv  iliciii  on.t  on  to  ilie'  jmrcli. 
J{o\-  laislied  from  llic  hallway  and  past  tlie 
group. 

'•  (ircat  (i(Hl  :  Tt  is  fallicr  !  It  is  fatliei' !  " 
lie  ci'icd.  and  tunicd  to  sliicld  liis  iiiotlicr  from 
tlic  si'_;lit.  •■  ( *omc  liaclc  I  ( 'omc  liack  .' ""  lie  said 
g'l'aspinL;'  licr  Iwtlic  >\aist  and  trying  to  force  lier 
into  a  cliair.  He  had,  as  A\'e  all  have  at  sndi 
times,  a  vague  idt/aof  somehow  sa\'ing  her  l)y 
gaining  time.  Tlic  lit  lie  gronj)  was  staggering 
into  tlu'  I'oom  and  ils  load  A\'as  hiid  upon  tlio 
eouch.  (iril'lith  I)a\'enport  was  dea(h  'Die  smile 
on  the  face  \\'as  there  still.  l>nt  the  poor  1)ravo 
heart  wotild  heat  no  mori.'  fore\'cr. 

"Heart  failure,""  some  one  said,  '•'in  the 
trustees"  room."" 

"  In  the  midst  of  life  we  are  iit  death — "'  l)egan 
the  stern-faced  ascetic  as  he  took  his  pdace  near 
Katherine.  Ivoy  had  pushed  her  into  a  cfiair  and 
stootl  holding  lier  ahoitt  the  shoitlders.  Emma 
knelt  hefore  her  with  streaming  eyes,  hjoking 
into  the  set  face.  Little  Margaret  Avas  weeping 
with  fear.  She  had  never  before  seen  the  face 
of  death.     She    did  not  understand.     She  only 


AN  UNOFFICIAL  PATUIOT.  347 

knew  that  some  terrible  blow  had  fallen,  and 
she  clung  to  aunt  Judy  and  wept. 

"  In  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death.  The 
Lord  giveth,  and •"' 

"  Oh,  go  away,  go  away  I  "  moaned  Katherine, 
as  the  monotonous  voice  and  the  tall  form  of  the 
clergyman  forced  itself  into  her  consciousness^ 
again.  "  Go  away  and  leave  me  with  my  dead  I '' 
She  was  dry-eyed  and  staring.  She  sat  like  one 
in  a  dream.  She  had  not  reckoned  upon  this 
when  she  had  felt  that  she  was  ready  for  any- 
thing that  should  come — anything  that  could 
come  to  her  in  the  future.  She  was  too  dazed 
to  grasp  or  adjust  anything  now.  She  only  knew 
that  she  must  be  alone.  "  Go  away  !  go  away,'^ 
she  said  looking  up  at  Roy.  He  motioned  the 
men  and  the  minister  out  and  closed  and  locked 
the  door.  When  he  returned  to  his  mother's  side 
her  eyes  were  shut  and  her  head  was  thrown  back 
against  the  chair.  There  were  no  tears.  He 
beckoned  Judy  to  bring  little  Margaret,  and  he 
took  his  mother's  arms  and  put  them  about 
the  child,  and  his  own  were  around  both.  His 
own  eyes  were  streaming  but  hers  were  dr}-  still. 

"Mother,"   he   said   softly,    "mother,"     She 


:j4s  AX  ryoFFiciAL  patbiot. 

dill  not  answer.  Presently  she  opened  her  eyes 
and  tliey  fell  u[)on  the  eiiild  in  her  arms. 

"  Ptior  fatherless  child  I  Poor  fatherless 
child  I  "  she  moaned,  and  the  tears  gushed  forth, 
hilt  her  arms  dr()[>|)ed  slowly  from  ^Margaret's 
form,  and  she  did  not  seem  to  want  the  child 
there.  The  streaming  eyes  traveled  toward 
the  conch  and  its  silent  occupant  whose  trials 
and  struggles  were  indeed  over  at  last.  Oli, 
the  iron}-  of  fate  I  Xo  contlict  of  soul  was 
hefore  him,  the  dawn  he  had  heralded — the 
hrilliant  day  was  come,  Avas  it  not  ?  Who  was 
there  to  say  ?  He  was  out  of  bondage  at  last 
— bondage  to  a  conscience  and  a  condition  that 
tortured  liis  brave,  sensitive  soul.  The  end 
of  the  sacrifice  had  come,  but  for  what  ?  To 
Katherine,  as  she  gazed  at  him  lying  there  in 
the  gloom,  it  was  dead  sea-fruit  indeed.  She 
could  not  think.  She  only  sat  and  stared,  and 
was  conscious  of  the  dull  dead  pain — the  Avorth- 
lessness  of  all  things. 

Roy  bent  down  and  stroked  her  hair  and 
kissed  lier.  She  did  not  seem  to  know.  ''  Shall 
we  go  awav,  too?  .U/ of  us,  mother?  Would 
you  rather  be  alone— with  father?  " 


AS    IWOFFICIAL   PATUIOT.  ;J4'» 

"  Yes,"'  she  said  feeblj".  '■'  I  will  be  alone 
always,  alone  now,  always  alone — alone  I  *' 

''  Xo,  no,  mother,  yon  will  have  all  of  us — 
all — all— but  him.     AVe  will "" 

"■  Go  away  !  go  away,  for  a  while,"  she  said, 
and  flung  herself  on  her  knees  beside  the  couch. 
"Oh,  Griffith,  Griffith!  What  was  it  all  for? 
All  our  suffering  and  trials  and  hopes  and  life  ? 
What  was  it  all  for  at  last  ?  "'  she  moaned  with 
her  arms  about  his  lifeless  form.  "•  What  did  it 
all  mean?  What  was  it  all  for,  if  this  is  the 
end?  Oh,  Griffith,  Griffith  !  what  was  the  use  ? 
What  was  the  use — with  this  for  the  end !  I 
felt  so  safe  about  you,  darling,  now  that  jou 
were  here  !  I  did  not  even  think  of  you  !  I  did 
not  fear  it  was  you  !  Oh,  Griffith,  Griffith  I 
this  is  the  end  of  all  things  !  This  is  the  end  I 
This  is  the  end  I  I  do  not  care  what  else  comes 
— I  do  not  care — I  do  not  care  !  What  is  a 
countr}-?  What  are  sons  to  me  now?  I  do  not 
care  !     I  do  not  care  !     This  is  the  end  !  " 

Roy  had  heard  her  voice  and  her  sobs.  He 
opened  the  door  softly  and  saw  her  with  her 
head  on  the  breast  of  her  dead  and  the  long 
sobbing  sighs  coming  with  the  silences  between. 


;jr)(l  AX   C.XOFFKIAL   PATRIOT. 

He  closed  the  door  noiselessly  again,  and  took 
Jiis  young  wife  in  his  anns.  His  voice  was 
choked  and  In'oken. 

"  Ennna,  my  darling,  perhaps  if  you  Avere 
to  go  to  her — perha[)S  she  would  know  that  nou. 
can  understand — perhaps  you  could  comfort  her, 
if '' 

"■No,  no.  Roy,  she  would  hate  me  if  I  were 
to  go  in  there  now — I  who  have  yon  I  I  who 
am  so  happy  and  so  blest  !  I  kno\\'  I  I  know, 
darling.  Let  her  alone — for  awhile.  ( )h,  Roy. 
If  it  were  you  I  If — if — it  were  I  in  there, 
with — with  lion,    dead  I     Oli,    Roy  I '' 

They  clung  to  each  other  in  silence.  Both 
understood.  .Vt  last  he  said,  holding  his  wife  to 
his  heaving  hreast :  "  .Vnd  we  cannot  help  her  I 
Not  even  God  can  help  her  now — if  there  be  a 
God — not  even  He  can  help  her  now !  He 
would  be  too  late  to  undo  His  own  cruelty  !  Ah, 
love  and  death  I  Love  and  death  !  how  could 
a  good  God  make  both  I  " 

The  young  wife  shuddered  and  was  silent. 
Her  faith  could  not  compass  that  situation. 
Love  was  too  new  and  too  strong.  Doubt 
entered   the    door   Love   had   swung   open  for 


.i.v  rxoFFiriAL  PATUior.  ;j51 

these  two,  and  took  up  liis  seat  at  their  lireside 
forever. 

An  hour  hiter,  as  they  talked  in  whispers,  Roy 
said  :  '•'  To  think  that  we  all  escaped  in  battle 
— and  he  from  worse  danger — and  now  I  "" 

'"  Mos'  Roy,  honey,  I  wisht  yoh'd  take  dis  heah 
rabl)it  foot  in  dar  t'  Mis'  Kate  I  Lawsy,  Mos'  Roy. 
she  o'wine  tergo  outen  her  mine  if  she  don'  look 
out.  Aunt  Judj'  don'  need  dis  heah  foot  lack 
what  ^lis"  Kate  do  now,  honey.  You  des  go  in 
dar  an'  des  kinder  put  hit  inter  ^lis'  Kate's 
pocket  er  somewlieres.  Hit  ain't  gwine  ter  do 
lier  no  harhm — an'  mehb}'  hit  niout  do  'er  some 
kine  er  good,  kase  I  gwine  iev  gib  hit  to  her  ter 
keep  fer  all  de  time  now." 

Roy  took  the  proffered  gift  quite  gravely. 
''  Thank  you,  aunt  Judy,  you  were  always  good 
to  us — always.  I  will  take  it  in  there  after  a 
while  ;  "  he  said,  and  the  heroic  old  soul  hobbled 
away,  happy  in  her  supreme  sacrifice. 

It  was  night To  Katherine  it  seemed 

that  the  darkness  must  be  eternal.  Yet  the 
.sun  rose  on  the  morrow,  and  Life  took  up  its 
threads  and  wove  on  another  loom. 

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Civilization's  Inferno  :   studies  in  the  Social  Cellar. 

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Irrepressible    Conflict    Between    Two  World- 
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CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 


STUDIES  IN  THE   SOCIAL  CELLAR. 

BY   B.   O.    FLOWER. 

A  bold,  unconventional  book  which  in  a  merciless  manner  lays  bare  the  criminal  ex- 
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author  terms  the  "  Froth  of  Society." 

It  fearlessly  contrasts  the  criminal  extravagance  ami  moral  effeminacy  of  the  sloth- 
ful rich  with  the  terrible  social,  moral,  antl  physical  condition  of  the  ignorant, 
starving,  and  degraded  poor. 

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from  there  into  the  sub-cellar,  or  the  world  of  the  criminal  poor. 

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and  woman  in  America. 

Table  OF  Contents.  — I.  Introductory  Chapter.  II.  Society's  Exiles.  III.  Two 
Hours  in  the  Social  Cellar.  IV.  The  Democracy  of  Darkness.  V.  Why  the 
Ishmaelites  Multiply.  VI.  The  Froth  and  the  Dregs.  VII.  A  Pilgrimage  and 
a  Vision.    VIII.  What  of  the  Morrow. 


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PRESS    COMMENTS. 

It  is  a  strong  appeal  to  the  Christian  civilization  of  the  times  to  arise  and  change  the 
current  of  human  misery  which  in  these  modern  times  is  driving  with  such  re- 
sistless force.  — Chicago  Daily  Inter-Ocean. 

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are  now  ignorant  or  careless  to  the  condition  of  the  countless  thousands  who  live 
in  the  "  social  cellar." —  Courier- Journal,  Louisville,  Ky. 

Society,  as  it  is  now  constituted,  is  nothing  less  than  a  sleeping  volcano.  Who  dares 
to  say  how  soon  the  upheaval  will  come,  or  whether  it  can  be  evaded  by  the 
adoption  of  prompt  measures  of  reliel':*  Certainly  the  condition  of  the  lower 
social  strata  calls  for  immediate  action  on  the  part  of  those  whose  safety  is  at 
stake.  Mr.  Flower  has  accomplished  a  great  work,  in  setting  forth  the  exact 
truth  of  the  matter,  without  any  effort  at  palliation.  — Boston  Beacon. 


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SIDE  POCKET   SERIES. 


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THE  OPEN  SECRET. 


By  A.  Priest.  A  message  from  Mars.  The  secret  of  life  and  destiny.  A 
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DR.  JOHN  SAWYER. 


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ONE  DAY.    A  Tale  of  the  Prairies. 


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ing. II.  Noou.  III.  Afternoon.  IV.  Night.  Illustrated  with  beautiful  origi- 
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IMM 


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ALBERT  BRISBANE. 

A    riental    Biography,    with    a    Character    Study. 
By  his  wife,  Redelia  Brisbane. 


One  handsome  volume.    Cloth.    365  pages.     Price,  $2.00. 


This  •vrork.  in  the  form  of  an  autobiograjiliical  recital,  covers  man}'  of  the 
most  imjiortant  events  of  the  century.  In  this  si)lendicl  book  will  be  found 
subjects  of  the  most  varied  character.  Mr.  Brisbane's  unique  experience  as 
a  student,  a  traveller,  and  a  philosophic  observer,  together  ■with  bis  rare 
power  of  original  thought,  invests  with  i)eculiar  interest  every  subject  touched 
upon, —  prominent  among  which  is  a  vivid  picture  of  the  social  movement 
from  the  days  of  St.  Simon  down  to  the  jiresent. 


ECCE  ORATOR  I 

CHRIST  THE  ORATOR; 

or,  Never  Man  Spake  Like  This  Man. 

By  Rev.  T.  Alexander  Hyde.  A  book  that  will  have  a  million  readers 
since  it  fills  a  most  important  and  long  time  vacant  niche  in  the  temple  of  lit- 
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the  age,  for  it  is  a  masterly  and  complete  exposition  of  a  subject  almost  un- 
touched by  any  writer,  and  by  its  thorough  investigation  and  original  thought 
renders  topics  long  veiled  in  night  as  clear  as  noonday. 

Though  profoundly  scholarly,  yet  the  style  is  so  fascinatmg  that  it  is  as 
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gence along  the  hills  of  Palestine  and  reveals  the  Christ  in  wonderful  reality. 
Not  until  you  have  read  this  book  have  you  seen  the  real  Christ  as  He  walked 
the  valleys  of  Judea  and  preached  to  vast  assemblies  His  world-wide  tratlis. 
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RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
481 


